Sour Times
by Greensleeves89
Summary: AU & eventual SPN crossover - Rose in series 8. They knew things were not the same. How could they be? When the Doctor makes the decision to keep Rose safe from her enemies following a near death experience it sends them both on a journey they didn't think they'd ever face: life without one another. The Doctor and Rose Tyler - that's how it's supposed to be...isn't it?
1. Deep Breath

The emergency lighting system was activated about ten minutes ago. Rose reaches up behind her and gently tugs the cloth that used to be a bow tie from her hair. It falls down her back and Rose wraps the cloth around her wrist, tying it absently. She holds her wrist out slightly and admires her work before settling back, gripping the railings tightly in her hands until her knuckles blanch and her nails dig into her palms. Time to settle back into the thickening silence. Everyone seems to have claimed a corner of the console room as their own and just decided to be alone with their thoughts. No one has said much since the incident. Minutes after his regeneration and they had gotten into an argument about piloting the TARDIS. He didn't think she was doing right, she had shouted he had no idea what he was doing and poor Clara was standing there stunned.

She had stolen glimpses at screen to show them jumping around from place to place. She saw them parked in front of the Berlin Wall and its collapse in 1989, to jump back to the Stonewall Riots in the 60s. All because they were arguing about piloting, finally he had gotten so frustrated because she had wanted to take them somewhere safe until she was certain he was all right from the regeneration, so they could talk so they all could get to know one another again when he had hit a random button. She didn't catch which one she had just felt the TARDIS lurch, throwing her into the console, she had landed hipbone first and she can already feel the bruise starting to form.

They had struck something hard, she had felt them bounce off of whatever it was and when Rose had managed to make her way back to the screen she saw that they had bounced off was a T-Rex. She had widened her eyes and attempted to quickly make the jump again when he had taken over and decided the best remedy for the problem was to outrun the dinosaur. No matter how much she attempted to convince him otherwise. Even Clara had gotten in on the convincing. He had brushed them off. Rose had waited for what she knew would come next. And sure enough that's what happened. Hence their current predicament, stuck. Frustratingly stuck in a dinosaur's mouth, merely waiting to be hacked up. But somehow he had still managed to make the jump. Who knows if it actually worked. It's been awhile, anyway. Eerie and silent. So she assumes probably not. And that's when everyone had regulated themselves to a corner and shut themselves off from one another.

Rose leans forward to sneak a small glance at the Doctor as he stares at the ceiling lost in thought. She worries for their future. She worries for what this means for their relationship. He doesn't even remember her name. Or Clara's. He's been calling them 'Not me,' since this whole misadventure started. What is she going to do? The nervous knot in her stomach twists tighter. The new path they are forced to take after every regeneration is and can be daunting to her. He already knows her, at least he should – in this case not, but she needs to rediscover him. Every time. And she worries that they will be unable to continue what they had attempted to build and fix the last time. Because he may not love her anymore.

Granted there had been some bumps in the road. Charlie had been a huge one and she is not going to apologise for that, she's already made that very clear, because she hadn't expected to fall in love with him and being in love with him wasn't something she could stop even if she tried. She still hasn't given him enough hell for banishing her once again. This amnesia scares her. She worries for their future. A relationship can only work between two people who are present and dedicated to one another, despite any outward distraction or internal problems. She looks away from him. Will it work? They're either in together or not at all. So what's it going to be? She doesn't know and now isn't the time to inquire either. If they ever get the opportunity to discuss it then maybe she'll know. What if this is it? She leans back on rails at the realisation. She becomes bitter. Between them, their troubles she worries they can't come back from everything they once had and everything the want in the future. Love can never die a natural death. It dies because those falling out of love don't know how to replenish its source. It dies because of blindness and errors. It dies of illness and wounds, it dies of weariness, of withering and of tarnishings. She covers her mouth. What if that's them? She peers around the console again. Does he feel it too? Is he thinking about her? Of them? She can't read him anymore, it's scaring her.

He sneaks a glance at the woman with the blonde hair while she isn't looking. He's been doing that a lot. Stealing looks when her gaze is elsewhere. He feels himself gravitating towards her but is unsure as to why. She kissed him, could it have something to do with that? She can pilot the TARDIS, is that normal? She isn't a Time Lord, he'd know if she were. But who is she? There is just a blank void; he can't remember anything up until she kissed him, why? There had been a spark in that kiss, he had felt it, as brief as it was.

She's just so…captivating. He thinks that is the appropriate word to use in this situation. If they didn't have the problem they do now, namely waiting in this darkness for a solution, then he'd ask questions of her. Who she is, why she captivates him so. Or…maybe she isn't aware she does that? Are they…more than…whatever is they have now? That doesn't make sense, does it? Does _he_? She makes sense, he thinks, anyway. She's commanding. The way she took charge of piloting this thing…before he argued with her about what she was doing. She's a good yeller and so stubborn. Is he like that? He doesn't know. There is just so much he doesn't know. Many images come to the forefront of his mind but he can't seem to place them at all. They are lost before he has any time to sit through and really think about them. She is so…what does he know about her? He gravitates towards her.

Her voice echoes in his mind. The way her lips called his name…he looks to his hands that grip the console. Tell me more; he wants to call to her. You're so complicated; surely you are simpler than that…

 _I am quirky, silly, and often blunt and a little damaged. My days are sometimes too dark and my nights are sometimes too long. We all have insecurities and sometimes I trip over my own. I long for passion, and wish to be desired. I often use music to speak when words fail me, though, ironically, words are as important to me as the air I need to breathe. I love hard and with all that I have…my faults are there and it doesn't mean I deserved to be loved less because of them. I am going to do what I want to do because no one can stop me or tell me no or say no you can't. I'm going to be who I really am._ _And I'm sure as hell going to figure out what that is and what it takes to get there._

She said that to him, he could hear her voice ringing in his mind. Conviction clings to her voice, but when and where did she say it? If only he could recall her name…surely it would make things easier. This woman that sits on the rails with her arms crossed and looking away from him…there is so much hidden beneath her surface. Together they had gone through things, he can tell even if he can't remember them. To look at her is to see a breathtaking mosaic of all the battles she's been through and won. And there had been many of them. So if they've been through things together, why does it still feel as though there is a gap between them? There is an aura; she shines bright in brilliant golden light. Toss that girl to the wolves and she'll come back leading the pack, won't she? There had been a time when he had been afraid of her and her power. What power had that been and why? This lack of understanding is frustrating. He wishes to have a frank conversation and yet he's certain no words would come to him because he wouldn't know what to say or ask of them.

He steals another look at the blonde before he shifts his gaze to the brunette. She isn't like the blonde at all but that's a good thing. She's different in her own way and that's okay. He can't recall her name either. She has more of an innocence to her that the blonde doesn't have, a sweeter disposition. The blonde is kind, he can see it but right now it's hidden, as though she keeps parts of herself hidden and unattainable. He thinks. He's just basing his thoughts on them in the hour or two he's known them.

A sudden rattle causes them to grip the nearest thing around them. A rumble echoes around them and Rose looks to the ceiling. Is it finally time? Will that dinosaur finally make an attempt to dislodge them from its throat? Hopefully. It's been long enough. Rose approaches the console and holds onto it tightly ready to get them active again when another shudder causes her to fall back into the rails. All is so silent. Rose frowns and she moves around to face the door and the Doctor looks over to her.

'What's going on, do you think we're free?' Clara whispers to Rose and she shakes her head, unsure herself. The TARDIS has landed, so hopefully that's a good thing. Unfortunately because of the…gunk on the monitor, she can't really make out where they are. And that isn't the only thing bothering her either. Where's the dinosaur?

Rose turns to Clara and bites the corner of her lip. 'I don't know. There's something troubling me, though.'

Clara eyes her carefully. She doesn't like when something troubles Rose. That usually means things are bad or about to get a lot worse. Clara looks towards the Doctor and then to Rose.

'What's troubling you?'

Rose doesn't have a chance to answer her when another voice interjects and Rose can feel the dread building within her. How can this entire ordeal get any worse? Rose steals a glance at the Doctor, he's quiet and to her he doesn't entirely well. Pale, maybe?

'Hello? Exit the box, and surrender to the glory of the Sontaran Empire.'

The Doctor's gaze shoots up and he begins to walk with haste towards the door. Rose and Clara know that voice anywhere and Rose's hand extends in front of her in an attempt to stop him.

'Wait, Doctor. We know him!' She insists and the Doctor turns around in a flourish with a frown. At least she knows where she is now…

'You know Sontarans? That's not good, not at all, is it?' The Doctor tells them and Rose and Clara exchange looks. How do you explain a situation to someone who should know all about it but doesn't at this moment? Rose presses a hand to her head. 'But that doesn't matter, I don't think. He's causing an awful lot of noise. And I'm trying to figure something out.'

'Figure what out, exactly?' Rose wonders exasperated and folds her arms but she doesn't receive a reply from the Doctor, he's already at the door. Clara shakes her head and finds herself holding her breath. This is uncharted territory for her. She's never dealt with this before.

Ever since she found out that he had the ability to change his face it had intrigued her but Clara believed she'd never had to experience that. Ever. She just assumed he'd be the same forever. However when Clara watches the way she interacts with the Doctor, this new version, she gets the impression that she's done this once or twice before. After all, how many times has she been in a situation like this? Well, not the eaten by a dinosaur part but just this situation. Trying to make friends with a man who is still the same but isn't at the same time. She must have done this numerous times, right?

Clara watches the Doctor rush towards the door and opens it in a flourish. He shushes whoever is on the other side. Rose rolls her eyes and walks up to him when he comes back up the ramp.

'Have you seen that…?' He begins before Rose cuts him off. Clara is rather glad she's taking charge of this situation because she's immensely overwhelmed. She wouldn't know what to do if it had simply been the two of them.

'That is…' Rose begins but he holds his hand up and she falls silent from the surprise. She plants her hands on her hips and he opens the door once again. Rose throws her head back in obvious frustration and Clara twists the hem of her dress impatiently. Rose can hear Strax call the Doctor's name and the confusion in his voice.

'I was being chased by a giant dinosaur, but I think I managed to give it the slip.' The Doctor explains and Rose shakes her head. Something must have gone wrong, the regeneration has done more than affected his memory. It hurts her a bit. It takes her back to the time she first witnessed the regeneration and the mess it caused back then. Sure, she's better equipped to handle things this time around but he's being so…flighty, it's hard to keep him in one spot for long.

She needs to take charge. 'Doctor, you know that the dinosaur ate us…'

He turns back to her with a frown before opening the door to the TARDIS once again. Rose comes up behind him and is about to put her hand on his shoulder when she pauses, hand shaking. It's the clothing. That's what is making her so uncomfortable. They spent their last moments together before being thrust into the unknown together. Seeing him still clothed in his predecessor's clothing drives the memories to the forefront of her mind and she has to constantly push them away. She can't even enjoy them to give her a sense of comfort. As usual her feelings need to be pushed away. She hardens herself.

The Doctor watches the blonde, nearly asking her why she's so incredibly close to him and why she's giving him that incredibly odd look. A thought strikes him so he reopens the door in a flourish and Rose attempts to peer over his shoulder. 'Sleepy?'

'Sir?'

Rose can hear the confusion in Strax's voice and again she hesitates placing her hand on his shoulder. She's about to ask what he meant by the word sleepy when it dawns on her. He really must have hit his head to think that Strax is one of the Seven Dwarves. Incredibly the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS and Strax takes a step back. Rose immediately exits after him and stays close to his side. Clara cautiously steps out next to Stax and watches the Doctor move around him in a circle. Clara and Rose look at one another and Rose shakes her head. Clara presses her lips together. This is going to be extremely difficult. She wraps her arms around herself and notices that there is two other women off to the side watching the events unfold with candid fascination. Clara remembers them, just not their names. When they look over to Rose, she shrugs absently, motioning to the Doctor with her eyes in a sideways glance.

'Bashful? Sneezy? Dopey? Grumpy!' The Doctor exclaims when Strax remains silent. When he notices that there are two new people he hasn't seen before he points to them. 'Oh, you two! The green one…and the not-green one. Or it could be the other way round, I mustn't prejudge!' He pauses and Jenny and Vastra widen their eyes. He points back to where Clara and Rose are. 'Oh, you remember, er…thingy, the, er, not me ones, the…asking questions one? And uh…oh, the tough one, Charlie. Am I right? Names - not my area.' He begins to meander around, checking out the sights and sounds of wherever he is. It's so familiar…why? He feels so…disorientated and unclear as to what's causing it.

He looks at the river behind him to the crowds of people that have gathered around. Again the two women, the green one and the pale one, are carefully studying him with an incredulous look on their faces. Where are they exactly? And how does Grumpy know his name? It's nothing but a blank space in his mind at the moment.

'Clara!'

He turns around to where the girl constantly asking questions is staring at him with a hard look in her eyes and her hands on her hips. He dismisses her. 'Well, it might be Clara, might not be – it's a lottery.'

'It is Clara,' She responds flatly and motions to Rose still having some sort of mental conversation with Jenny and Vastra. 'And that over there is Rose, not Charlie. Where did you get Charlie?'

'Well, I'm certainly not ruling it out! And I'm not sure…names, you know?' The Doctor replies and Rose presses her hand to her head and sighs, it worries her that the name Charlie is stuck in his mind, worse that he's begun to associate it with her. It tells her that he was thinking of her relationship just before the regeneration.

When she pulls her hand away she's surprised to see the Doctor staring at her. 'Yeah? Why are you staring at me?' She finds herself unable to breathe and holds the breath in her chest the longer he continues to watch her. She's about to ask him something when a loud roar bellows above them. She widens her eyes. The dinosaur is in the Thames!

'Oi, big man, shut it!' The Doctor shouts and looks to Strax. 'Oh, you've got a dinosaur, too! Big woman, sorry.' He adds quickly, almost apologetically.

Unable to stop herself, Rose walks over to him and swallows her fear, she places her hand on his shoulder and he turns away from the dinosaur to stare at her. Those icy eyes, she nearly trips over her words but swallows her discomfort and pretends this doesn't bother her. He turns away from him and she places her hand on his cheek. It startles him but he shifts his gaze back to her. He remains unreadable to her. She hates it. No time to dwell on that fact, it's time to move on.

'Listen to me. You need to stop. You need to calm down, take a deep breath.' Rose instructs and the Doctor continues to watch her carefully. He doesn't answer her for some time and when he does look as though he's about to answer her, he hesitates before whipping around to address the dinosaur still in the Thames.

'I'm not flirting, by the way.' The Doctor addresses the dinosaur but turns around half way through his sentence to look at Rose. She's shaking her head at him. Why? Has he done something wrong? He doesn't think so.

Clara has been observing them but doesn't like that Rose is unable to have any progress with him. She turns to Vastra with a desperate look in her eyes. 'I think something's gone wrong.'

The Doctor frowns and peers around Rose to glare at Clara. He begins to take a step towards her when Rose holds him back by the arm. She shakes her head.

'Deep breath.' She encourages with a soft smile and for a moment the Doctor forgets what he's about to say. He gets lost in those bewitching hazel eyes. How do her eyes do that? Why are they so familiar? Why can't he recall her name? He grows uncomfortable and looks over her shoulder to the brunette, pointing at her.

'Wrong? What's gone wrong? Have you regenerated? I remember you! You're Handles!' The Doctor states confidently and tilts his head the longer he stares at Clara the more something doesn't make sense. But he past it and gives her a warm smile as he points at her. 'You used to be a little…a little robot head, and now you…you've really let yourself go.'

'Doctor!' Rose scolds and he flinches as the dinosaur roars at them. Rose covers her ears and the Doctor rushes to Vastra, standing in front of her. He glances back to the dinosaur and nods his head.

'Reduce the frequency.' He demands and Vastra frowns, confused by his words. She does give a look around to see if she's missed something but finds nothing alarming. She then shifts her gaze to Rose who stands there with a shrug, she starts towards them.

'I'm sorry?' Vastra finally questions and the Doctor motions around them angrily. Why don't they get it?

'Your sonic lanterns, turn them down. You're giving her a headache.' The Doctor repeats and Jenny glances to the crowds above them on the railings looking down.

'Giving who a headache?' She wonders and the Doctor gives her a once over and walks forward towards the dinosaur. He passes Rose along the way and motions to the dinosaur.

'My lady friend!' The Doctor explains and then smiles at the dinosaur. 'Just an expression, don't get any ideas.'

'How do you know?' Strax inquires and the Doctor brushes his comments off with a sigh.

'Come on, Clara! You know that I speak dinosaur.' He insists and Clara huffs, coming to stand beside Strax with her hands on her hips.

'He's not Clara. I'm Clara.'

'Well, you're very similar heights. Maybe you should wear labels,' The Doctor frowns suddenly and begins to back away. He stops by Rose and turns to her, confusion written all over his face and Rose becomes alarmed. 'Why…why are you all doing that?'

'What? What are we doing?' Rose questions desperately and he grips her arm tightly for a brief moment before he lets go and shakes his head. Those eyes. Why do they make him feel the way he does?

'Why are you…you're all going dark…and wobbly – stop that.' He demands and Rose shakes her head not understanding while Clara gives him a funny look.

'I don't think we are.' She replies and the Doctor appears to have gotten over whatever has plagued him because he smiles at them.

'Never mind!' He declares and Rose frowns when she notices that he becomes a bit pale she closes the gap between them but he still distances himself from her. He takes a quick survey of everyone gathered before him and he claps his hands together. 'Everyone…take five.' He begins to fall backwards and Rose leaps to secure him in her arms and they tumble to the ground together. He's in a dead faint and Rose lands hard on the ground.

Everyone else springs towards them and Rose continues to study the Doctor carefully entirely numb to the emotions she's feeling right now. Some how so eerily similar to what she went through years ago, but it's different than before. So different. She reminds herself that he is the same. And yet she feels so helpless, just like before. She can be so tough about anything else but facing prospects like this make her feel like she's stuck, unable to do anything to help. Clara kneels beside Rose and watches her with a worried expression. She's been so closed off since this entire ordeal that Clara is concerned about her just as much as she the Doctor. Clara presses her lips together and continues to watch Rose hold the Doctor protectively in her arms; she's never even looked up at her or even acknowledged that Vastra, Jenny and Strax have joined them.

'Rose?' Clara calls softly and it takes her a moment before she finally breaks her silent vigil over the Doctor to look at her.

'Yeah?'

Clara bites her lip and motions to the Doctor. 'What do we do?'

Rose glances down to him once more and Clara can hear her softly sigh. 'We just get him somewhere comfortable. And we keep a tight watch over him until things get sorted out. That's about all we can do…'

Clara isn't surprised by her answer and yet she thought Rose would have more to say on the matter. A way to rouse him, to help him…instead they have to leave him to his own devices. She doesn't like feeling so helpless and lost, she assumes that Rose doesn't either but she has this ability to know when they need to back off or are in over their heads. Is this one of those times? What if he doesn't get better? She doesn't like that thought and so she tries not to dwell on it even if it continues to be such an invading thought.

Jenny and Vastra kneel beside them as well and after a careful inspection of the man who still lies cradled in Rose's arms there are more questions than answers. And so Jenny glances up to Rose, she obviously must know this man, why else would she be so protective over him?

'I don't understand, Rose, who is he? Where's the Doctor?' Jenny questions and Vastra runs a device over him to ensure that everything is all right. Rose glances to him before she shifts her gaze to Jenny.

'Right here. This man is the Doctor.'

Vastra lowers the device in shock and smiles half-heartedly at Rose. 'Well then, here we go again.'

'Can we take him back to your home, Vastra?' Rose wonders and Vastra is already on her feet and nodding her head. Jenny straightens up and glances to the TARDIS.

'Of course.'

'Thank you,' Rose stands as well and motions for Jenny to grab the Doctor's feet, which she does and Rose bends down to secure a grip under his shoulders. They hoist with difficulty and Rose motions to the TARDIS with her head. 'Let's get him to the TARDIS. I can take us back.'

Jenny and Rose begin shuffling towards the TARDIS while Strax moves to the door and opens it for them the closer they get. Vastra begins to follow them but Clara pauses in her own step and turns over her shoulder to look at the dinosaur that is splashing around in the waters and she presses her lips together before trotting to catch up to the others.

'But…what about the dinosaur?' Clara points back and everyone pauses, having forgotten that little problem. There is a quiet silence before Vastra walks towards Clara. When she puts her arm around Clara's shoulder she becomes slightly comforted.

'One problem at a time, dear Clara. Come.' Vastra instructs and leads Clara to the TARDIS where Rose is waiting at the controls. The moment Vastra and Clara enter and the door is shut, Rose powers up the controls and the TARDIS begins to dematerialise.

Rose attempts to keep her mind focused on the task at hand and effortlessly moves around the console, pressing buttons. Her mind is going a mile a minute, what to do about this situation, what will happen if she's unable to fix it and finally, perhaps strangely last, is what to do about the dinosaur that is roaring in the Thames. How will they get it back where it belongs? Situations like this test her mentally. There is a nagging feeling that is still in the back of her mind that is concerned about this entire ordeal. She is unable to stop thinking that there is a time, possibly now, that things between them will be so different they can't fix it. This incident here is proving that. He can't remember her. And as she hits the final lever for the TARDIS to land, her stomach begins to twist itself in a knot. This could be it. When things are resolved…she may just be on her own again. She looks down to the controls.

Such is life, isn't it?

* * *

Rose watches from the corner of the bedroom while he angrily paces around and Vastra tries desperately to calm him down. He had been out cold for nearly two hours after they had successfully managed to get him into a guest room at Jenny and Vastra's that she elected to take the first watch. Everyone else had gone down stairs to hold a silent vigil. Rose had slid down the wall and drawn her knees up to her chest. The moments before the regeneration reply over and over in her mind. She had regretted so many things that she had said to him over the course of their fight about certain things. They had agreed to let it go but something tells her he hadn't been entirely honest.

She had actually managed to shut her eyes for a brief moment and she hadn't realised she'd fallen asleep, entirely drained – mentally, physically and emotionally, until the sounds of movements echoed around her and she got up, knocking lightly and was granted entry. He had still been mightily confused but somewhat calmer and less flighty. Then the arguments had started. He claimed that he couldn't understand her. That she had been speaking some foreign language. Slowly her words down, announcing everything clearly hadn't helped. So she had attempted French…and then Russian. To no avail. In fact she believed it confused him further.

 _No, Charlie, no, I don't understand you…what are saying to me?_

 _It's Rose. My name is Rose, Doctor…please, I know you know it…_

But nothing had worked. Finally so exasperated, both at the fact that she hadn't been able to communicate with him properly and that he had maintained his calling of her as Charlie led her to call to Vastra for helping, hoping that perhaps she could talk some sense into him and succeed where she had failed.

Unfortunately Vastra hadn't had much luck either, the moment she had walked in the Doctor began to barrage her with questions as well. Most of which she had no answers for only seemed to aggravate him further. Rose is getting further and further to a point of declaring herself totally out of ideas. She's never gone through this before. Rose holds her right hand out in front of her…it's shaking. The tremor is slight, hard to notice but she can. Come to think of it she does feel rather odd, she can't pinpoint what it is exactly but it is there. She ignores it. It's what she's good at.

'It's simply misunderstanding to me. I don't know what it is.' The Doctor declares and Vastra sighs, pressing a hand to her head. Rose tilts her own and watches the Doctor heading towards the door. Rose holds her hand out.

'Doctor, wait, please!' Rose calls but he walks out into the hallway and Clara and Jenny who have had their ears pressed to the door the moment Vastra had gone upstairs at Rose's behest, leap back and get into standing positions, attempting to cover the fact that they had been eavesdropping.

The Doctor turns over his shoulder as the blonde's pleading voice made him do so. But instead he shakes his head. 'Who invented this room?'

Jenny takes the opportunity to sneak in past the Doctor and yanks Clara's arm and tugs her into the room as well. They see Rose in the corner by the vanity and Vastra by the window. Clara can see Rose is at her breaking point so she attempts to help her out as best she can. She manages to get the Doctor's attention but he doesn't hold it for long. Clara grows exasperated.

'Doctor, please, you have to lie down.' Clara points to the bed and he scoffs at her assessment.

'It doesn't make sense. Look, it's only got a bed in it. Why is there only a bed in it?' The Doctor wonders exasperated and Clara stares at him surprised while Rose goes over to the window and wraps her arms around herself while she thinks. She's becoming detached. She's running circles. How does she get off?

'Because it's a bed- _room_ , it's for sleeping in.' Clara explains and the Doctor turns to her with a frown. None of them are making any sense. Why are they not making sense? And why do they sound so odd? It's spreading.

'Okay, what do you do when you're awake?' He wonders and he finds his gaze falling on the blonde girl, Charlie? No, that's not her name, is it? It's the only name he can associate with her though, but she keeps telling him no. Why is she being so distant now? She was so kind and caring hours ago…

'You leave the room.' The taller brown haired girl explains and he breaks his gaze with the blonde to look at her. She's not making sense either. It's starting to become exasperating.

'So you've got a whole room for not being awake in? But what's the point? You're just missing the room! And don't look in that mirror – it's absolutely furious.' He explains and Clara can't help but study the vanity mirror…all seems okay to her. Damn he distracted her from the issue at hand and so she attempts to get him to focus.

'Doctor, please, you have to lie down, you keep passing out.' Clara begs and the Doctor motions around the room as though the answer to statement is right there in front of her.

'Well, of course I keep passing out, there's all these beds!' He reminds her and Clara frowns before exhaling slowly. Maybe now she can see why Rose is so…detached. 'Why do you keep talking like that? What's gone wrong with your accent?'

'Nothing's wrong with her accent.' Jenny states and the Doctor shakes his head quickly. He feels as though he's about to lose his mind. Of course they wouldn't know if they have a fault. Hopefully he can fix it.

'You sound the same, it's spreading. You all sound all…English,' The Doctor pauses and then motions to Charlie. No wait, just the blonde. That'll be her name. 'Except her, she can't decide if she's French or Russian. She's got a serious fault that needs to be fixed. Actually, you all do. Do you realise that?'

Rose motions Vastra forward and she joins Rose over by the window. They listen to the Doctor and Clara continue to argue over the purpose of the bedroom. She thought this was going to get easier. That things would just sort of…fix themselves after they got him back here. But it isn't like that at all.

'This isn't making any sense, how can he think we're…why does he think our accents are faulty?' Rose wonders and Vastra folds her arms in thought, taking a look back to the Doctor who is angrily glaring at Clara.

'He said we sounded…English.' Vastra recalls and Rose scoffs and rolls her eyes at nothing.

'I wonder why. We're in England,' Rose retorts and widens her eyes as something strikes her. Oh, of course! How could she have been so blind? 'Vastra? How good are you at speaking with a Scottish accent? The last time I tried…I was told not to continue…'

'I can make it passable. Do you think it will work?' Vastra wonders and Rose continues to stare out of the window before turning to Vastra with a small shrug. She is running out of patience. She feels…she doesn't know. She presses her hands to her temple and Vastra places her hand on her shoulder before turning to the Doctor and clearing her throat.

'Doctor, I need your help with something,' Vastra declares in a shaky Scottish accent and he whips his head around and stares at her. Vastra leans into Rose and gives her a small smile. 'You're brilliant. Now let me see if I can get him to rest once more.'

The Doctor grips Vastra's shoulders and gives her a relieved smile. 'Finally, someone who can talk properly.'

Vastra takes his hand and begins to lead him back towards the bed. He reluctantly sits beside her only when she motions him to. 'I'm having difficulty sleeping.

The Doctor looks Vastra up and down and frowns. 'Oh? Oh, well, I wouldn't bother with that, I never bother with sleep, and I just do standy-up catnaps.' He declares and Vastra nods her head eagerly while glancing to Rose who seems to be holding her breath. Clara eagerly twists her skirt hem and hopes that whatever they're doing right now is going to work. She can't remember a time when she has been so lost on how to help.

'Oh, really, how interesting,' Vastra comments and pauses. She continues to think on her feet as quick as she can. She has to keep him talking. 'And when do you do those?'

The Doctor shrugs before smiling a bit. 'Well, generally whenever anyone else starts talking. I like to skip ahead to my bits, it saves time.' He explains and once more Vastra nods. She takes his hands in her and takes her time phrasing her request to him. She can feel herself getting closer to winning this mental game they seem to be engaging in.

'Save me time, Doctor,' Vastra implores and she takes his hands and placing them on either side of her head and closes her eyes briefly. 'Project and image of perfect sleep into the centre of my mind.' She begs and the Doctor nods his head quickly.

Vastra places her hands on the sides of the Doctor's head just as he removes his from her head. Rose feels her heart beating faster as he appears to be debating her request. Rose watches him look over Vastra's shoulder to her.

Before she knew exactly what he was trying to say to her. With a single look they could have an entire conversation and now…she just sees nothing but emptiness and unrecognisable longing. She can almost see him trying to figure out why he should know her and where she fits in to his memories. Even if he insists on calling her Charlie. It's embarrassing. He won't stop looking at her and so Rose has to look away first. Who can she speak to about how she's feeling? There is no one she can talk to about her fears and worries, as real or as unfounded as they may be because no one amongst them knows what their relationship was like. Maybe Vastra…but she would have to admit a lot of things. They would need to have such an in depth conversation…maybe this is bothering her more than it ought to because the last little bit of their time together before the regeneration hadn't exactly been the most pleasant. It could be why she's been so anxious and edgy. Oh, what she wouldn't give for the easier day when it was a regeneration and that was it. No drama. Wait a second…they all had drama. Leading up to it and after. You know…she isn't sure what she wants.

'What, do you want a psychic link with me? The size of my brain, it would be like dropping a piano on you.' The Doctor replies concerned and Vastra gives him a small smile before closing her eyes.

'Be gentle, then.'

The Doctor exhales and holds his hands against Vastra's temples. 'I'll try. Brace yourself! Piano.' The moment he touches her temples he promptly falls unconscious onto the bed without another word. Rose punches the air in victory and Clara closes her eyes in relief. She smoothes down the wrinkles in her skirt.

'I love monkeys, they're so funny.' Vastra muses and resumes speaking in her normal voice. She gets up from the bed and smiles turning over to the little group still before her but frowns when she sees Jenny's dark glare and rigid posture.

'Oh, I see! So people are monkeys now, are they?' Jenny wonders indignantly and Vastra smiles at her while walking towards her and places her hand on Jenny's cheek.

'No, dear. People are apes. Men are monkeys.' Vastra explains and Jenny relents, giving her a smirk, while Rose comes over from her place by the window, smirking also at Vastra's assessment, and helps Jenny and Vastra place the Doctor on the bed and Rose draws the bedcovers over him to get him comfortable.

'Rose, how did you know that would work?' Jenny questions and Rose absently shrugs her shoulders. She steals another glance at the Doctor before turning her morose gaze to Jenny. Her heart is heavy with sorrow.

'Honestly? I didn't. I took a risk. Thankfully some of us can speak with a better Scottish accent than others.' Rose replies and looks at Vastra with a small grin. Vastra merely closes her eyes in response.

Clara watches the three of them continue to converse while she continues to stare at the Doctor. How are they…so accepting of this? Why are they not making a bigger deal out of this? They keep talking about regeneration as a means he uses to heal himself but…why did he change? That…doesn't make sense to her. If he made himself better why doesn't he look like the person who she met? Why is he…older when he's supposed to be younger? Isn't there a way to change him back? Is this what's making him so…odd? Why he's having all these problems? Something during the regeneration process didn't heal completely or properly and now this is what they're here to fix. She hates that she's the only one concerned like this. The others don't seem to be concerned about this mess as she is. Clara presses her lips together and clears her throat. Everyone turns to Clara with a frown.

'So what do we do? How do we fix him?' Clara questions and Rose wraps her arms around herself and looks out the window. Clara notices and doesn't like the way Rose reacted. Seems as though that question is wrong, at least by Rose's actions.

Thankfully for Rose, Jenny answer's Clara's question. Regeneration can be confusing to those who have never experienced it first hand. It's an unsettling time for those involved especially when there are small technical snafus such as this one. Everyone needs time to get reacquainted with one another.

'Fix him?' Jenny echoes and Clara rubs her arms. She's getting that need to twist her skirt hem to work off her anxiety because of the way that Jenny and Vastra are looking at her.

Clara exhales, as it seems they need a better explanation for what she asked earlier. They don't understand, not good because neither does she. 'How do we change him back?'

Jenny looks nervously over to Vastra who walks towards Rose and places her hand on her shoulder. Rose angles her body to stare at Clara with a flat stare and closes her eyes sadly. Vastra gives Rose's shoulder a small squeeze and encourages her to go on. Rose feels drained and yet connected to Vastra. She believes that if she needs to unburden herself she can talk to Vastra. It isn't good to keep it all inside, is it? But she has no one else that would understand, does she? It can be so isolating.

'Clara…there isn't anything we can do. He just needs rest to get well. That's all.' Rose explains and keeps her voice barely above a whisper. How does she explain it to someone? There is no going back now. Rose watches Clara's face go white before draining of emotion and she looks to the floor.

'Oh…'

Another heavy silence follows and Vastra sighs lightly before glancing to Jenny with a small, tight smile. Time to change the subject and move on from this endeavour. 'Jenny…I will be in my chamber. Would you be kind enough to fetch my veil?'

Jenny frowns but nods her head nonetheless. 'Why, are we expecting strangers?'

Vastra looks to Rose with a small nod and Rose folds her arms and glances down to the Doctor. 'It would seem…there's already one here.' Vastra declares and strides from the room. Jenny begins to follow her but pauses as a distant roar is heard.

Both she and Rose head to the window to stare out in the direction of the Thames, listening carefully but nothing is heard again. It seems as though the four of them are going to have to put their heads together and figure this mystery out. Without him. It's an odd thing to think of. They always figure everything out with the Doctor…

She abruptly straightens up. She doesn't need him. She got along just fine without him, that much is obvious. If she needs to abscond with the TARDIS for a little while to draw the dinosaur back to its home then that's what she'll do. And she can do it with or without the help. And so help those that get in her way.

Rose glances up to Jenny when she puts her arm around Rose's shoulders and offers her a kind smile. Surely Jenny and Vastra must know of their once deep closeness. Try as they might they were never able to hide it well enough. She knows, knows well that this is just a little hiccup in the regeneration cycle but she feels as though that closeness has been eroded. And it's a feeling she's unable to expel from her mind. It's her heart preparing her for the worst. He might not love her anymore. And that perhaps her time on the TARDIS is numbered…

It's a depressing thought in and of itself but she isn't sure she could stand next to someone, to go on adventures with…to spend the downtime in here with someone who used to mean the world to her…but no longer does. Their history is too rich and saturated, with the good and the bad, to simply be cast aside. Maybe this is where her story concludes. It isn't Rose Tyler, the Doctor and the TARDIS as it should be. Maybe, and perhaps it always will be, the Doctor and the TARDIS. Because in the end…that's all that matters.

One thought at a time. She pays attention to the feelings she has festering within her because she has the itching feeling to dye her hair colour again. That's a sign either she wants change or change is coming to her. How about chestnut? Better than the coppery tones like last time. Quit jumping ahead, girl. One thing at a time.

'It will be all right, Rose. We'll think of something.' Jenny tells her softly and Rose covers Jenny's hand with her own, needing the comforting words and touches.

'Thank you. I'm glad we landed here. It's nice not to have to work this…oddity alone.' Rose confides and Jenny smiles. She's about to answer Rose when Clara's meek voice cuts in.

'What have I done wrong?' She wonders and Rose and Jenny turn to face her. Rose gives her a sad smile.

'Nothing, Clara. We haven't done a single thing. These things can happen after a regeneration cycle is triggered. He'll be okay. I promise. I've gone through this once before. Well, not exactly the same but close.' Rose promises and Clara raises her gaze from her feet to see Rose's eyes. She speaks in a tone that suggests all will be well, so why don't her eyes reflect that? Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. They're just dull. Like the light is out in her eyes.

Clara wants to ask her about it and as she opens her mouth to carefully inquire as to why, the dinosaur roars loudly in the distance. Clara moves her eyes to the window while Jenny and Rose do the same. They stare at the direction of the Thames and Rose believes the answer is simple. Take the TARDIS and attempt to recreate the problem in the first place. That should work.

'The dinosaur doesn't seem happy.' Jenny remarks and Rose nods her head.

'I can imagine. Plucked out of your home only to be put on display for people to gawk at. She's probably stressed and scared.' Rose replies and Clara kneels by the bed to study the Doctor.

How can it be that he's older when he was just younger? It doesn't make sense, he was supposed to just…heal himself and things were supposed to be okay. He was supposed to just be…himself. Not this new self. Why doesn't any of this make sense?

'What's wrong with it, do you think?' Clara questions, mostly to keep the intrusive thoughts out of her mind. She doesn't want to think of things like that. As confusing as they may be.

Jenny listens to another roar and frowns. It just sounds like a dinosaur roaring to her. If there is distress that the creature is feeling, it certainly doesn't come across in the ferocious vocal roar. She shrugs absently and turns to Clara. 'I dunno. The Doctor's the one that speaks dinosaur,' Jenny replies and squeezes Rose's shoulder before giving her a curt nod. 'Excuse me, ladies, the wife doesn't like to be kept waiting.'

'Where did he get that face? Why's it got lines on it? It's brand-new. How can his hair be all grey? He only just got it?'

Jenny is nearly out of the door when Clara's voice rings out and cuts Rose's deeply. Jenny can see the tear that falls down her cheek from her angle, Clara wouldn't, Rose has her back to her but seeing as though a question like that can be hurtful to someone who is mourning the loss of someone she knew and yet who is there still but struggling to remember her. Clara's lack of understanding hurts Rose because she wants to answer her but it means acknowledging her own fears and insecurities. Because of that Jenny answers Clara's question so Rose doesn't have to.

'It's still him, ma'am, you saw him change.' Jenny tells her, firmly but kindly. Rose appreciates the gesture. She doesn't know what other way to say it. She went through the same thing the moment the man in the leather jacket left her and replaced him with hair that stood on all angles and the most expressive brown eyes she could imagine. He remembered everything about the man before him. Including the single word uttered to her upon their very first meeting. The man is always the same. Deep, deep down.

'I know. I do, I…I don't know.' Clara admits with a sigh and finds that she's gripped the bedcovers tightly in her fist. She widens her eyes and releases them. Smoothing them out. How can she properly articulate what is truly bothering her. The lack of understanding about this whole ordeal? Can she say that? Will that truly show the others what she means.

The last two versions of the Doctor were young. She assumed that yes they were young but that they aged at a much slower rate than humans did. So why is it that he was able to repair himself on Trenzalor, so much so that he remained the same man. But why did that trigger a regeneration cycle. And why didn't he regenerate into another young man? Is that supposed to be how it works?

'Good.' Jenny's forceful tone shakes Clara from her thoughts and causes her to nod slightly while pressing her lips together. That little nagging feeling won't go away. They all seem to just have accepted this is how things are. Why can't she?

'It's just…' Clara begins but trails off, looking at the Doctor resting and Jenny rests her hand on the doorframe watching Clara before she glances to Rose who has wrapped her arms around herself. Poor thing.

'What?' Jenny wonders and Clara shrugs, shaking her head. It doesn't matter. There is nothing to be done to change it, what does it matter if she questions it more?

'Nothing,' Clara replies but finds her fear asking the next question as Jenny begins to leave the room. 'If…if Vastra changed, if she was different, if she wasn't the person that you liked…' Clara finds herself interrupted by Jenny. She could sense where Clara was going with her line of hypothetical wondering. She can't have that.

'I don't like her, ma'am, I love her. And as to different, well, she's a lizard.' Jenny states firmly and leaves the room in a flourish. The heel of her boot can be heard as she travels down the hall and into the room at the end of it.

Clara stands and fusses with the bedcovers, readjusting them to get the wrinkles out before she pauses and holds her hand out. She wants to rest it on the Doctor's but is unsure that would wake him. And she's scared. Her hand trembles slightly. She presses her lips together and swallows her fear, a tight lump in her throat and rests her hand lightly on the Doctor's. He doesn't move or even flinch and she finds herself smiling regardless. Don't worry, she wants to whisper to him, we're here for you and we'll help you. You have us all here behind you. She inhales sharply when the dinosaur roars faintly and she removes her hand, walking towards Rose who is still by the window, staring off. She isn't taking this well. And what's strange for Rose is that Clara can see it. Usually Rose is incredibly hard to gage. But Clara can read her every emotion in those dull eyes. It worries her further.

'Rose, can I ask you something?'

'Sure, of course you can.'

Clara looks to the Doctor briefly and then back to Rose. 'Why can't he remember your name?'

Rose finds herself smiling ironically and perhaps bitterly as well. 'I don't know but I suspect it had to do with our disagreement right before this incident happened.'

Clara frowns and stares up at her. 'Disagreement? You guys fought?'

'Sure. Although, never quite like this. He didn't like the company I chose to keep for a little while upon my return to Earth. It wasn't his business as we hadn't met up yet and he didn't know I was back. I'm sure it was the shock of someone like me paired with someone like…' Rose trails off and searches for the right word or phrase to describe someone like Charlie without admitting to Clara that he was a mafia don. Clara can see that Rose is struggling with a word or something of likes to finish her sentence. Clara decides to help her out.

'Charlie? Was that his name?' Clara wonders and Rose finds herself instantly relax at the mention of his name. Rose doesn't realise that she smiles intimately and her eyes get lighter. Clara notices it.

'Yes. It was.'

Realising instantly why the name sounds familiar, Clara nearly opens her mouth to spill the secret that she'd been keeping since she and the Doctor were in Chicago in 1931. By accident. After an interesting adventure the two of them had. That was the man she'd been with, she's certain of it. Clara had spotted Rose instantly in a beautiful hunter green, floor length dress staring out of the window in a hotel lobby by the banquet hall she'd just left. She had called to Rose, but she hadn't heard her and her second attempt was stifled by the Doctor's hand. She can't know they were there, he had said to her. It will spoil things. He had dragged her away to the opposite banquet hall where there apparently had been a wedding. Clara remembered being dragged by her arm away, seeing the hurt in the Doctor's eyes but Clara's gaze had been fixated on the man who had abruptly appeared beside Rose. How he had slipped his arm around Rose's waist and pulled her closer. How in love they looked and Clara's dreamy sigh when the man had tilted Rose's chin up to kiss her. It had been so romantic; she hadn't gotten the significance of that city and the year. Nor the man himself. The Doctor hadn't bothered to explain it and told her to stop asking questions about it.

In fact, the Doctor refused to answer any questions regarding Rose and that man for days. Even when they had been sneaking around a guest's hotel room in search of the creature that had hatched from the supposed pearl the Doctor left the bride and groom as a gift for the wedding they had crashed. Even when waiting in that hotel room for the…romp to finish between the two people staying there as that's where they had followed the escaped creature. That had been one hell of night and now that Clara knows the man's name that had been with her is the same man's name the Doctor had been calling her, then it opens up more questions and her curiosity is peaked. She presses her lips together and wants to know more but how can she ask without revealing that she had been there to see him?

'Seems like a funny thing to argue about.' Clara remarks and Rose nods her head.

'You have no idea,' Rose replies and then sighs. She presses her hand to her forehead. 'That must have been one of the last things on his mind before the regeneration happened. Damn.'

'I'm sure he'll remember your name, don't worry.' Clara attempts a smile and Rose gives her a tight one. That isn't the issue she's concerned about.

'I'm sure he will, too. It isn't the issue.'

'What is?'

'It's the fact that he promised me he wouldn't think about that subject anymore. And if he's calling me Charlie that means I know he's thought about it as recently as the regeneration.' Rose replies and she can tell her answer is a bit impatient. Clara nods her head quickly, attempting to understand and she knows that Rose's tone isn't meant for her. But it sounds like there is a lot of information that hasn't been told to her yet. And she doesn't want to pry exactly as it wouldn't help matters along anyway. It's mostly her own curiosity that she wants to sate. Besides how do you come out and ask someone what dating a man like this Charlie infuriated the Doctor so much that he needed to argue about it with Rose? Clara hides her shock. Was he a bad man? Was he a…criminal? No, couldn't be. Rose didn't associate with that type of person…did she?

It simply reinforces the fact that Clara really doesn't know much about Rose other than what she chooses to reveal at certain times and under her terms. What's worse, she knows even less about Rose and the Doctor together. They surely have something that they keep hidden. She can tell. Their relationship – the two of them – is different than the relationship that she has with the Doctor. But Clara can tell Rose worries that it won't be the same.

'I'm sorry…' It's all Clara can think to say and Rose shakes her head.

'Oh, it's not your fault. I'm sorry. It's just…irritating to me that he lied. Again.'

'Maybe it was just subconscious?' Clara offers and Rose sighs. She shouldn't be getting as cantankerous as she is. She nods her head and closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Let it go. She has to forget it. He's the jealous type, as is she. If he wants to call her Charlie until he remembers her name…fine. There isn't much she can do to stop him other than keep on insisting that her name is Rose.

She doesn't know how to answer Clara and so Rose stays quiet. Together they continue to stare out of the window, listening to the soft clicks of the horses on the cobblestone roads as they pull carriages. If things weren't the way they were currently, Rose might actually have an inkling to go out and have a wander around London. With or without company.

Rose and Clara turn around when the soft murmurs of the Doctor are heard and they turn back to face one another with a frown before slowly making their way over to him. Rose tilts her head and folds her arms while she stands by him and Clara gets on her knees once again to carefully listen to what he has to say.

'I am alone. The world which…shook at my feet, and the trees…and the sky, have gone…and I am alone now…alone.' The Doctor states and Rose sits on the edge of the bed to listen carefully to what he's saying.

'He must be translating.' Clara surmises without looking up to Rose and glances to the window thinking of the dinosaur still refusing to leave the Thames.

'If he is, it certainly solidifies my thoughts about the dinosaur. She's terrified and confused with where she is. We need to figure out how to get her back home. Quickly.' Rose replies and Clara nods her head at her. They both turn their attention back to the Doctor when he begins talking softly once again. Rose looks at him sadly.

'The wind bites now…and the world is grey…and I am alone here. Can't see me. Doesn't see me. Can't…see me.'

Clara frowns. It doesn't make much sense to her. How can they not see it? Is the dinosaur thinking of something or someone in particular? She leans a little further in so that he can hear her soft tone. 'Who can't see it? I think all of London can see it.'

Rose nearly covers his hand with her own when Strax appears in the doorway and clears his throat. Rose halts her actions immediately and Clara and Rose look over to the doorway simultaneously.

'Boys? Madam Vastra is waiting.' He informs them and Clara stands. Rose remains seated. She doesn't feel comfortable leaving the Doctor alone and so will stay behind. She's certain that Clara can relay any information that Vastra may inquire about. She watches Clara get to her feet and to the door.

'Okay, whatever. Rose, coming?' Clara pauses in the doorway and rests her hand on the frame. She frowns when Rose shakes her head lightly and motions to the Doctor.

'I'm going to stay behind, if you don't mind. Just to keep an eye on him. In case he may wake up disorientated or confused.' Rose watches Clara nod her head in agreement.

'Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, I figure Vastra wants to know what happened.' Clara replies and Rose smiles absently.

'I have no doubt you're right.'

Strax watches the blonde boy turn her attention back to the Doctor while the brunette boy turns back to him and he nods his head curtly. 'I will convey you to her chamber,' Strax motions for Clara to follow him and she does so. He turns back to her with his hand outstretched. 'May I take your coat?' He offers and Rose covers her smile while Clara stares at Strax confused.

Clara arches her eyebrow and presses her lips together. 'Not wearing a coat.'

That seems to surprise Strax because he widens his eyes and pauses in the hallway. He turns around and motions to Clara. 'What's all that?' He wonders, pointing to her.

Clara can only surmise that he must be referring to her outfit. 'Clothes.'

That answer seems to satisfy him because he smiles and nods his head. Once again he holds out his hand to her and smiles. 'May I take your clothes?'

Clara pauses and blinks. 'Probably not.' She strides down the hall and Strax trots to catch up with her.

Rose smiles inadvertently when she hears Strax's next inquiry float down the hall. She gets up from the bed and peers out of the door and down the hall where Clara is now leading them.

'Are you wearing a hat?' Strax wonders and Clara pauses and turns to him briefly before shaking her head and continuing on. He hurries to catch her.

'It's hair.' Clara responds with a firm tone and Strax shakes his head in response and points to Clara's head. Rose shuts the door softly but presses her ear to the door regardless, curious as to what Strax will say in response.

'No, I think it's a hat, would you like me to check?' He wonders and she doesn't hear Clara's response over the sound of the two of them descending the stairs to the main level. Rose is confidant that Clara will be able to answer all of Vastra's questions to the best of her ability. So then why does she have the feeling that Vastra's summoning of them is harbouring another meaning?

She goes over to the small vanity placed in the corner by the window and picks up the wooden chair there. She carries it over to the end of the bed and positions it close enough to the bed. Rose crosses her legs and tilts the chair legs back so that they are resting on the back legs. She tilts her head to lean it on the wall. He's fallen silent again and Rose presses her lips together.

Her worries plague her. What if they are unable to rouse him from whatever grips his mind? Is he lost in himself? How can she help him out of that haze if he can't remember her and their history together? To him she's just another face, who can't speak proper English and who he calls a name he doesn't realise he's attributing to someone else. That's still a new one to her. The last time he went into this haze he still recalled who she was when he managed to snap himself out of it. It just confirms her fears she had relayed to him earlier. What if he doesn't like her? What if…things between them are unable to be repaired? There is a knot in her stomach that twists tighter and tighter. If he doesn't awaken then they will handle getting the dinosaur back to the proper time on their own, she knows they can do it. That doesn't worry her. And it surprises her that it doesn't.

It's her selfishness that stuns her and how bad the need she has within her for things to be as they were, and the realisation that they might not drives it further and further home to her. Sometimes she can't adapt to change well. This will be one of those times. To her…to lose him…no she doesn't want that to happen but knows that there won't be anything she can do to stop it. She would miss the two of them sitting somewhere, anywhere, and he would lie beside her and count the stars while he called them all by name. She lets the chair go forward to rest on all fours while she gets up from the chair and kneels down by the head of the bed. She reaches to hold his hand tightly.

'I wish there was a way for you to tell me how I can help you…' Rose whispers and is a little surprised when he grips her hand lightly and she looks over to him. She smiles lightly and places her hand on his cheek. 'I don't like when you go places I can't follow.'

'Charlie…?'

'I'm here…' Rose breathes and bites the corner of her lip. He doesn't say anymore and Rose closes her eyes in defeat. So much for that. She straightens up and leans forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. 'Doctor, it's me, it's Rose. Just…listen to my voice and come back…'

She straightens up and sits back in the chair slightly morose when nothing comes of it, not that she expected it would, but she attempted to be hopeful. She closes her eyes and sighs, tilting the chair back once again and rests her head against the wall.

She begins to think of a solution to the problems that seem to get larger and larger. Well whatever comes of this, she hopes that Clara, Vastra and Jenny are having better luck than she is.

* * *

There were a lot of plants in the conservatory that Strax had led her to. It smelt like…the earth. It's nice. Relaxing however it was a tad on the humid side but when she got seated, she hadn't realised that she had quickly grown accustomed to it. There was a fine china set displayed on the table that is positioned in front of a grand wicker chair. No tea was it in the little porcelain china cups – still isn't any now, either. Vastra was poised in the wicker chair; her face was obscured by her intricate lace veil. She had a ridged posture, not very inviting, Clara immediately thought when she had walked into the room. Jenny had been off to the side, slightly off to the left of Vastra and had motioned to Clara to sit in the vacant seat opposite of Vastra's. She had sat down and hadn't felt…welcome. More like judged. And then Vastra hadn't said anything at all. Neither had Jenny. She had been forced to sit awkwardly, crossing and re-crossing her legs while she had waited patiently for someone to say something. For god sake anything.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity. Vastra inquired as to what had transpired in the TARDIS that had the Doctor regenerate, crash landing in London with a dinosaur that had managed to eat them. It had sounded so…unbelievable when Vastra recounted the chain of events and indeed, where does she even begin to explain how events happened without back tracking to Trenzalore? Should she start there? It seems only right, she can't very well start at the part where Rose and the Doctor erupted into an argument, well she guesses she could but she isn't sure she should, after all does she really want to portray Rose and the Doctor as incapable of working together because, really they can. She's seen it and they work amazingly together. Clara can feel her eyes shifting from Jenny to Vastra and she inhales before launching into her explanation.

'We…we were at Trenzalore. We went there because there was this message that was broadcast all across the universe and it summoned all these other beings and they were above this planet waiting for the signal to attack.' Clara begins and Vastra leans forward slightly highly intrigued.

'What happened then?' She questions, she believes that if she requires any further information or to fill in details that perhaps Clara is unaware of, she may need to go to Rose, or possibly the Doctor once his mind has settled. How odd things have become. More so.

Clara looks down to her hands folded neatly in her lap. 'Well the Doctor…he just sent us away. He decided to just fight all the other beings by himself. And he did that for centuries before Rose and I could get back to him. By the time we got back…he was an old man who didn't have anything left in himself to give anymore. He was ready for the end to come and somehow…the end didn't come. He fixed himself…or so I thought.

'When we all managed to get back to the TARDIS…he sorta changed. He was gone. And the TARDIS…Rose tried to pilot it as best she could and then he…tried to take control from Rose and they got into an argument. A loud argument…' Clara sighs trails off and stares at Vastra and tilts her head. From what she remembers, Vastra usually only wears her veil if she is going outside on a mission or someone comes to the house. While they may be expecting someone later, why is she wearing it in front of her? She's not afraid.

'And then?' Vastra watches Clara frown and search the room. She smirks lightly. This is getting rather…interesting. She wonders how much longer it will take for Clara to realise how closed off she is from change. She didn't need to worry about Rose. You could see the acceptance in her eyes and actions. In her heart…she has been through a regeneration before. Maybe more. It seems just Ms Clara is unreceptive of change.

'Why are you wearing your veil?' Clara finally questions and Vastra folds her hands in her lap and waits to answer her question.

'And then?' Vastra repeats and Clara sighs in defeat, okay so that question will not be answered at this moment…or ever…probably. Clara motions to the window.

'The argument stopped and we got swallowed by a big dinosaur. You probably noticed.' Clara remarks and once again Vastra smirks. Jenny sees the faint nod from Vastra for her to join the conversation. Still Clara hasn't realised their ulterior moment.

'How did it happen?' Jenny inquires and Clara doesn't really remember anything about how it happened. She does remember that Rose was shouting that whatever he had been pressing was inhibiting their ability to escape, slowing them down. She recalled Rose telling him to let her do this and he had insisted he could do it fine without her. The TARDIS stalled and they began to get tossed around. She had heard the dinosaur's jaw snap shut, echoing around them, she doesn't believe she'll ever forget that sound.

Clara lifts her gaze to Jenny and she is waiting patiently for her to answer her question. She begins to twist her hands in her lap. The more she thinks about it the more frustrated and anxiety ridden she becomes. Things changed. And she doesn't like it. She wants things back to the way they were.

'I don't know, I don't know, we were…crashing about everywhere. Rose was trying to get things under control and she and the Doctor were arguing but he was gone. It's like the TARDIS went haywire. Everything was…everywhere.' Clara confesses and Jenny glances over to Vastra who doesn't return her gaze but knows exactly how Jenny is looking at her. Time to get Clara more flustered.

'He's not gone. He's upstairs.' Jenny reminds her and Clara rolls her eyes. Distinction without difference in her mind at least.

'Okay, he changed.' Clara retorts and Vastra finds herself smiling at Clara's response to Jenny's reminder.

'He regenerated, renewed himself.' Vastra explains and Clara smirks sardonically at her.

'Renewed, fine.' Clara answers back with a curt tone and Vastra clicks her tongue at Clara.

'Such a cynical smile.' Vastra retorts and Clara stiffens, not appreciating Vastra's condescending tone at her response to her questions. Well, if she doesn't like it too bad, she's just relaying her frustrations about the situation.

Clara folds her arms. 'I'm not smiling.'

'Not outwardly, but I'm accustomed to seeing through a veil. How have I amused you?' Vastra adds when she sees Clara actually smiling. She knows that she is pushing Clara to really explore the uncomfortable spots within her so that she can really address what is bothering her.

'You said he renewed. He doesn't…he doesn't look renewed, he looks…older.' Clara informs them and Jenny looks away. Vastra leans forward.

'You thought he was young?' She inquires and Clara shrugs her shoulders slowly. Why does every question Vastra asks of her make her really stop and think about her reply. As though she is wrong for having those thoughts? Wrong for feeling what she is.

'He looked young.' Clara answers stiffly and Vastra is unable to stop herself from letting out a small, cold laugh. Clara folds her arms.

'He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend.' Vastra observes and Clara feels her face getting hot. She grips the cushion in her hands on either side.

'Shut up!'

'But he is the Doctor. He has walked this universe for centuries untold; he has seen stars fall to dust and everything in between. This is a reason he looked the way he did.' Vastra explains and Clara pauses, letting go of the cushion but frowning, really dissecting Vastra's words to her. She widens her eyes at what Vastra is implying. Again she feels her face getting hot.

'I never, ever flirted with him if that's what you're implying.' Clara states seriously and begins to wonder if maybe the three of them don't realise that the Doctor and Rose had something going on between them. Should she…point that out? Is she right to do it?

'If you insist. Most are unable to keep themselves from falling for the charm he seems to exude.' Vastra counters and Clara finds herself smirking.

'Some of us didn't.' Clara is unable to stop the words that fall from her mouth. Well guess the secret's out now, if it wasn't already.

'I do not count Rose amongst those. She is has a different relationship with him entirely. While I have not had the privilege of knowing the Doctor as long as she has, I do know that he does things for a reason. While you may not have flirted with him, he certainly flirted with you.' Vastra replies and enjoys watching Clara widen her eyes and her cheeks burn. She must not have realised that both Jenny and herself know exactly who the Doctor is to Rose and vice versa. It's obvious enough. Rose is immensely worried she sensed it the moment they all emerged from the TARDIS.

Clara frowns and attempts to get her heart rate lower. She hadn't liked the way Vastra ended her sentence. 'How?'

'Looking young – who do you think that was for?'

'Me?'

'Everyone,' Vastra replies seriously and Clara blinks. Vastra smiles. 'I wear a veil as he wore a face – for the same reason.'

'What reason?' Clara wonders and Vastra tilts her head at her inability to see.

'The oldest reason there is for anything…to be accepted.'

'Oh…' Clara's eyes dart to the ceiling. She hopes that everything is going okay up there. She wonders if he's awoken at any point. If he has she believes Rose will be able to help him…still. Why does she feel so hopeless?

* * *

Something…smells. He sniffs twice, memorising the scent. Whatever that smell is…it's enticing. So he inhales deeply and sits up. Right this room. A bedroom that's what the brunette called it. A room with a bed in it for sleeping – still doesn't make sense to him. He turns his head to the right and catches a glimpse of the woman with blonde hair sitting in a chair with her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? She must be, it is a bedroom. So then why is she sleeping in a chair? Weren't there others in here, too, at some point?

He continues to stare at the blonde. He dreamt of her…with the golden halo, and of a very real power within her that should scare him. Instead it draws him closer to her. _I create myself…I want you safe…I declare…_

He dreamt they had adventures together in far away places. But at one point he turned around and she…she wasn't there. Her hand wasn't in his and it devastated him. He didn't know what to do without her. So he continued on…he had more adventures with new people he found along the way. And then he found himself in front of some kind of…door and when he opened the door there she was. She was back. It made him so happy…but he couldn't tell why she was unhappy. She was different. She felt different. Again…no way to tell why. He knows her and yet he doesn't. But he did know that he was so immensely grateful that she was back. He needed her; it wasn't the dream telling him that. It was a physical need. Look at her sleeping. Look at how beautiful she is. Why's she frowning? He doesn't know what she's frowning at. She's asleep, how can you be angry while you're sleeping? He pauses and draws back from her before leaning in once again.

Her breathing is soft, light and even. He watches her for a moment longer. He wants to know why he feels so close to her. Should he wake her up and ask? This would probably be a good time to ask. Is it rude to wake someone up who's sleeping in a room designated for sleeping?

He widens his eyes when he's abruptly staring at a stunned pair of hazel eyes. He can't move. He's frozen. And she's holding her breath. What does he do now? What does he even say to her?

'Hi…' Rose breathes and he pulls away from her. Thankfully she asked first. That's easy enough to work with. He only remembers her voice when they were shouting at one another, why were they so angry at each other? 'Are you…feeling better?'

'You're still…not making much sense.'

Rose smiles, he seems less…flighty now. 'The last time I tried to make sense, you told me to stop.'

'I did? When?'

'Oh, a very long time ago. When it was just you and me. Forever ago.' Rose watches the Doctor sit on the bed and to her it's very obvious that he's attempting to process the information. She doesn't want to over load him with anything further lest he get his mind stuck on a loop attempting to recall the memories. She wants to sit beside him but at the same time she doesn't want to push him away because he perceives it as uncomfortable.

'I can't remember.' The Doctor admits and Rose pushes her fears aside and discomforts and sits beside him regardless. He looks over to her and Rose covers his hand with hers. She's glad he doesn't pull away but he does watch her carefully.

'I know…it's okay. You will.' She encourages and the Doctor looks down to her hand once again. She hopes that if he is attempting to remember things about the two of them, that they're good and not the bad ones that seem to plague their final days.

'I dreamt of you…' He tells her abruptly and Rose stares at him stunned. She tilts her head and widens her eyes. Good thing or bad thing. The Doctor notices her stunned expression and quickly attempts to back peddle. 'No! No, no, what I mean is, um, I think, think – yes, that the word I need – I was remembering things about you.'

'Good things, I hope.' Rose replies and the Doctor looks around.

'I think so…you always seemed to have…' He pauses and inhales deeply. Rose notices the odd reaction and begins to scan the room as well. Everything seems to be rather sound. 'You always had a golden halo.' He finishes his thought and Rose is taken back by the vision of her with the power residing within her. He abruptly gets up and gets on his hands and knees, looking under the bed.

Rose is curious, both of his comment and his strange action and turns to the other side, laying on her stomach and shifting herself forward to lift the bed skirt and look under the bed as well. She can't see anything but he's already finished with the bed and has begun to move on to the radiator. He studies it carefully before scrabbling with his hand underneath it.

'What have you found?' Rose wonders and the Doctor pulls out a long piece of chalk, holding it under his nose and inhaling deeply. He then marks the chalk against the radiator and Rose presses her lips together. What is he doing? He is fixated again and doesn't answer her when she repeats her question to him. Still no answer.

The Doctor glances to the chair the blonde had been sitting in and grabs it into his hands, he turns to her and she's standing by the bed looking confused. So he shoves the chair into her hands, rather roughly so she falls back onto the bed and he points to her feet.

'Stay there, don't move.' He instructs and gets back down onto his hands and knees and continues to mark with the chalk all surfaces off the floor, beginning in one spot before moving on to another. Rose rests the chair at the foot of the bed while she stands up.

She covers her mouth in surprise and watches the Doctor continue to work in a flourish. She can't even think of anything to say, she's transfixed by what he's doing. He's moving with such haste to cover the entire floor that she's begun to turn in small circles to see if there is some kind of pattern. She can't seem to find one but the Doctor is moving faster, seemingly he aims to cover every inch of this floor. But why? He's entirely focused on his task and ignores her when she questions what he's doing.

There's goes that worry in her again. She's never seen him act like this before. Is he still attempting to work through missing parts of his memories and this is the only outlet he can think of to express them? He told her he dreamt of her with a golden halo, so clearly is remembering one of the most important times in their relationship, which does kinda make her feel good. He remembers important things, she just needs to help him sort through the rest.

Both of their heads shoot up when the faint roaring of the dinosaur is heard in the distance. She hopes that those surrounding the Thames when they left are leaving the poor creature alone. It's one enormous problem she isn't sure how to solve yet. And truthfully she wishes to ensure that the Doctor is safely taken care of before she goes gallivanting in prehistoric times.

The sound of the door opening draws her attention back to the Doctor who is standing there and peering out into the hallway. He leans out a bit further before straightening out and shutting the door. He turns over to Rose. The way he's looking at her makes her believe he's judging her for still standing on the bed.

'Door. Boring. Not me, right?' He looks up at Rose and she pauses. Lie or tell the truth. To lie means to potentially shape him incorrectly, especially if he's relying her to help him through the fog. She has to be honest.

'Definitely not you.' She agrees and sighs lightly. He dashes over to the window and opens it in a flourish.

'That's me!' He declares and climbs through the window out to the roof. Rose widens her eyes and holds her hand out to stop him but the words are lost in her mouth. She grabs the chair and positions it halfway from the bed to the window so she won't ruin anything, just in case they need to revisit his artwork.

'Doctor!' Rose shouts when she reaches the window ledge. She can't see him and so she climbs through and wraps her arms around herself. Bloody hell it's cold out here.

She gasps as she watches him run along the rooftops towards the Thames and she hastily trots to catch up to him. These damn clay shingles are hard to get a good grip on and few times she cries out as she loses her balance, throwing her arms out to stop herself from tumbling over the side. This night keeps on getting stranger and stranger. At least she knows where he's going. She just has to make there either with him just after. There is no way she'll beat him to the dinosaur…but she also wants to be there with him just to experience what he does.

* * *

Clara watches Jenny enter the room over Vastra's shoulder carrying a black lacquered tray with a teapot and cups with milk and sugar. Jenny sets the tray down on a side table and Clara is rather relieved that Jenny returned. The conversation had lulled dramatically when she left. Clara had been too peeved by Vastra's assumptions to attempt small talk. She had been too thoroughly ticked. The sound of Jenny clinking spoons onto saucers and the tea hitting the china cups shows Clara that she's been thirsty, and hopefully a strong cup of tea will help cool her off. Jenny turns around with two saucers and cups in her hands and gently passes one off Vastra who accepts it without saying anything and then to Clara who smiles at Jenny and thanks her. Jenny nods her head and goes back to the table to get a few cubes of sugar and she walks back to Vastra's outstretched hand and drops the two sugar cubes into the cup while handing Vastra a spoon.

Clara takes a few small sips and watches Vastra above the lip of the cup as she gently stirs the tea, tapping the spoon against the cup before placing it back on the saucer. Okay, this is getting awkward. The lingering silence is getting heavy. Vastra won't say anything but Clara does catch a lingering smirk on Vastra's face. What's there to smile about, does Vastra enjoy getting her all riled up?

Finally Vastra sets the cup back onto the saucer and leans forward to the table and sets the cup and saucer down. She leans back into her chair before waiting for Clara to do the same. When Clara does get the hint she sets her teacup down onto the table as well.

Vastra motions to Jenny who has resumed standing over Vastra's shoulder. 'Jenny and I are married, yet for appearance's sake, we maintain a pretence, in public, that she is my maid.'

Jenny rolls her eyes and straightens up slightly. It doesn't go unnoticed by Clara. She instantly feels for Jenny. 'Doesn't exactly explain why I pour tea in private.' She mutters with an annoyed tone.

Vastra smiles. 'Hush now.'

Jenny's look falls flat and Clara lowers her gaze to Vastra. 'Good pretence, isn't it?'

Vastra continues on as though Jenny hadn't said anything. Clara can see Jenny look away. 'I wear a veil to keep from view what many are pleased to call my disfigurement. I do not wear it as a courtesy to such people, but as a judgement on the quality of their hearts.'

Clara grips the armrests of each chair and feels her temper flare. 'Are you judging me?' She questions hotly and Vastra ignores her.

'The Doctor regenerated in your presence. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you. Are you judging him?'

Unable to take Vastra's misconceptions of the relationship she fostered with the Doctor she stands in a flourish and points at Vastra feeling immensely irritable and uncaring of how cold or impolite she's being. Jenny feels a slight smile on her face as she watches Clara become impassioned and her voice rings with conviction.

'How dare you! How dare you!' Clara states angrily and balls her fists at her side. 'Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor, last of the five good'uns, stoic philosopher.'

Vastra sits back against her chair no longer under the guise of her veil. She allows Clara to become further emotional. 'Superlative bass guitarist – the Doctor really knows how to put a band together.'

'Well that was the only pin up I had on my wall when I was fifteen, the only one I ever had,' Clara states angrily and feels her insides shaking with rage at Vastra's perceived notions of who she is as a person. It incenses her beyond belief. 'I am not sure who you think you're talking to right now, Madam Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men. And for the record, if there ever was anybody who could flirt with a mountain range, she's probably standing in front of you right now! Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted!'

'Whoo! Woo-hoo!' Jenny begins to applaud but it slowly dies down when she notices that all the inhabitants in the room have started to stare at her. She stops entirely and clears her throat, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks.

Vastra leans forward in her chair and is remarkably impressed with Clara's sudden realisation and declarative statement. She rather likes the fact that Clara has finally chosen to speak her mind, she often wondered about her. Still the fact that she has not noticed the lack of veil is telling.

'Well…' Vastra chuckles lightly to herself. 'Goodness me! The lake is ruffled at last. I often wondered what you'd be like when you lost your temper.' Vastra gives her a slight smile, it bothers Jenny and so she steps beside Vastra and gives her a light tap on the head, which causes Vastra to hiss from surprise.

'Oi! Married.' Jenny states and places her hands on her hips. When Vastra stands she turns to Jenny with a slight smile and places her arm on Jenny shoulder.

'Come now dear, I've overlooked the glances you passed along Miss Tyler's way upon your last interaction,' Vastra whispers to Jenny and Jenny leans back with a shocked look in her eyes. Clara misses the exchange between Vastra and Jenny and before she can inquire, Vastra has turned around to face Clara. 'The Doctor needs us, all of us; Miss Tyler cannot be tasked with bringing him home from the ruination of his mind. It will take us all. You more than anyone.'

Vastra walks by her with Jenny following suit and Clara goes along as well before a striking difference hits her, she pauses in her step and calls out to Vastra who has stopped in the doorway when she hears Clara's question.

'When did you stop wearing your veil?' Clara takes a few steps towards them and notices Jenny's confident smirk and Vastra's sly one.

'When you stopped seeing it.' Vastra disappears around the corner and Clara stands there surprised by her words and Jenny's satisfied smirk. Jenny motions Clara towards her and she smiles when Clara draws closer.

'Come along, Miss. Madam doesn't like to be kept waiting.' Jenny insists and ushers Clara out into the hallway and towards the grand staircase.

For the first time since this whole ordeal has occurred Clara feels at ease. With Jenny and Vastra's help, she's certain that they will help her and Rose figure out a way to get things back to normal. And they will she knows it. However that explosion that rattles the house causes Jenny and Clara to stop and turn over their shoulders, listening to the rattling of the crystals of the chandeliers above them. They frown and look towards one another for answers. Explosions are never a good thing, especially since she's rather certain that it came from the direction of the Thames. Clara presses her lips together and watches Jenny disappear up the stairs, time to get the battle uniform on, she declared. Something tells her she's going to need it.

* * *

Rose continues to chase after the Doctor who, for being asleep for more than a few hours, is running quite well and at a very decent pace. He's more assure of himself on the rooftops while she is staring at her feet while she attempts to steady herself while she jumps from one roof to the next. The Doctor hasn't even acknowledged her nor the fact that she's been following him since the beginning. And another thing, it's freezing out here. She's caught a chill; if she's cold she can't imagine how cold he must be just in a nightshirt. Her lungs burn from the cold every breath she takes.

'Doctor! Would you stop for a second?! Doctor!' Rose calls to him but he's at least a few rooftops ahead of her and she's worried he doesn't hear her until he shouts back a few moments later.

'Can't slow down, Charlie! I have to get to her!' He shouts back and Rose puts on another burst of speed to catch him. Damn his stubbornness. And damn the snow that's been falling and causing the clay to become slick.

'We can still get to her safely! You're worrying me!' She attempts another angle, maybe then he'll remember that when she's worried, he sometimes will stop and take a moment to tell her that her fears are irrational. That doesn't happen. And she doesn't know why she isn't surprised.

He continues to run towards the Thames, shouting and waving his arms. 'Oi! Oi! Oi, big, sexy woman! Oi! Sorry. Sorry, it's all my fault. My time machine got stuck in your throat. It happens,' He tells the dinosaur apologetically when he stops at the final house that sits beside the Thames. Rose breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that he's finally stopped. She darts towards him and vaults herself over the gap between the final houses the separate them. 'You know it's funny, but that's actually how I meet girls, ask Charlie, here. I think. I think I used my time machine, Charlie, did I? Tell her how we met.' He instructs when Rose comes to a rest beside him, drinking in the cold air and she nods her head, still a bit on the odd side of things that she's addressing a dinosaur.

'Is she even going to understand me? I don't speak dinosaur.' Rose wonders and the Doctor turns to Rose and nods his head at her. She can tell he's really enjoying this; he's excited and happy. It's hard for her not to be as well, just because he is.

'You're smart! That's true, tell me then and I'll tell her.' He replies and Rose nods her head.

'Okay, if you want me to. Yes, you did use your time machine.' Rose replies and decides to forgo any more details; they won't matter to him, as he doesn't remember them well enough. They can wait, hopefully, until the bigger problems have been settled. And they can have a chance to sit and talk. But will that ever happen? It worries her.

The Doctor gets excited and turns his attention from the flushed face of Charlie – is it really that cold out? – to the dinosaur. He keeps to himself the small details he suddenly remembers of Charlie pressed against a wall and a lot of shop window dummies surrounding her. That's funny. Why does he remember that?

'See, I do meet girls that way! Charlie's been around for a while. That's cause I keep her safe, don't I?' He wonders and Rose nods her head at him when he turns to her for confirmation. 'I kept her safe. And I swear right now to you, I promise you that I will get you home. I swear, whatever it takes,' He pauses and uses his hands to motion his thoughts. He glances to Charlie and she smiles at him. A tender smile. One that says she believes in him. That's very reassuring. 'I will keep you safe. You will be at home again.'

Rose is about to reach for his hand when the dinosaur abruptly bursts into flames and cries out from the shock and her hands fly to her mouth. Both she and the Doctor can only watch on helplessly with no way to neither stop nor protect her from it. 'No! Oh, my god! Stop!' She screams and immediately scans both the Thames and the skies to see if there is something somewhere that will show her where the assault is coming from. But it's nothing helpful. The night sky reveals nothing to her. And the Thames appears to be empty as well.

The Doctor rushes a few more feet forward. 'Stop that! Who's doing that? No, don't do that.' He begs and turns around, running off while the dinosaur collapses into the Thames and Rose watches on in horror. She is about to turn to the Doctor and ask him what they can do to help her when she sees him running off along the roof tops again.

She bites her lip and looks back to the dinosaur before tearing off after the Doctor. He's already put quite the distance between them and once again he ignores her calls for him to slow down and to be mindful of his step. She watches him continue to run until he abruptly takes a side step and leaps into a nearby tree. She widens her eyes when she hears the leaves rattling, the Doctor groaning and the sounds that tell her he didn't quite make the landing and hopefully hasn't hurt himself judging by the cracks the branches make when he hits them.

Rose pauses on the roof above the mews and listens while he lets out a sigh of relief and she lowers her centre of gravity and slides down the side of the room, once she gets to the end she side jumps off the roof where she lands in front of the Doctor who is hanging upside down and staring at her. She begins to see if there are any carriages coming their way that they can take to the Thames but the Doctor shouts at her. At least she believed it was at her.

'Halt!'

Rose turns around to see that he's managed to stop the large carriage that has approached them from behind. The pair of horses stomp the ground impatiently. Impressive considering he's still hanging from a tree branch he managed to snag with his legs and is currently hanging upside down. The man operating the carriage stops and Rose smiles at him.

'Thanks for stopping!' She replies and the man stares at the pair of them with a confused look and he merely gives her a small uneasy smile.

'Sorry, I'm going to have to relieve you of your pet.' The Doctor declares and the man looks up to the Doctor with a frown before dropping his look to Rose who smiles.

'He's gonna what?' He questions Rose and she shrugs, truly not knowing where things are going at this point. 'You're gonna what?' The man wonders and looks up to the Doctor who is shaking his head quickly.

'Shut up, I was talking to the horse!' The Doctor replies angrily and he drops from the tree branch and lands on the horse uneasily. 'Charlie, can you ride?'

Rose climbs up onto the carriage and sits on the same bench the driver is sitting on and she claps him on the shoulder before taking a small leap onto the second horse beside the Doctor and she looks over to him. 'Not well.'

The Doctor smirks at her and leans back to use the sonic on the reins, severing them entirely and it causes the Doctor's horse to rear while Rose tightens the reins in her own hands and feels herself getting nervous, her stomach tightening into knots.

'What are you doing?' The man demands and the Doctor ignores him entirely.

'Forwards!' He shouts and his horse takes off while Rose digs her heels into her horse's sides and it begins to take a slow start before awkwardly breaking out into a run. Her legs begin to hurt from how tense her muscles are in an attempt to remain straight and level. Riding bareback is not easy and as she leans forward to keep in sight the Doctor, who of course makes it look easy, Rose whispers into her horse's ear.

'Listen, it's my second time doing this but we need to catch up, think you can go faster?' She pauses and frowns. 'Like you'll understand me.'

Surprisingly she does pick up speed, she lets out a cry of surprise and soon closes the gap between her and the Doctor. She holds on for dear life. They continue to weave themselves through the London streets, people quickly stepping out of the way and Rose attempts to ignore the wind as it bites into her cheeks and the tears that form in her eyes. The river never seemed so far away from them before.

'You're not doing bad for someone who's never ridden before.' The Doctor calls back to her and Rose smiles at him. They're nearly side-by-side now.

'Thanks, it's not easy.'

They come up to a sharp left and the horse wishes to go right so the Doctor begins to yell at the horse. 'Left! No, no! Right, right, right, right! Sorry, it's my new hands. I can't tell them apart.'

'Your other left!' Rose calls and he nods his head in agreement.

'That could work!' He replies and Rose winks at him when he turns back to her. He looks away quickly. She's making him blush. Could she always do that?

Their horses slide along the cobblestones from the slickness of the streets. Rose gasps and believes for sure that she is going over the side of the horse but remarkably she manages to hang on. Her heart is beating wildly in her chest. The Doctor turns back to her briefly and masks it as a quick check. This woman follows him without hesitation, is concerned for his well being…she has to be special to him. She just…knows how to do things, he's certain of it. What he isn't certain of is what kind of things and why. There is more to her than meets the eye, he sensed it the moment he set eyes on her. He could sense her complexities, why else would she blindly follow him without fear or anything of the likes. He's transitioning into this new life, a new beginning. Truly she was meant to be here with him right now because those people and situations that don't fit the new him would tend to fall away. She does not. He feels torn between the nostalgia that he should know without question or hesitation and for the familiar with has disappeared within his mind.

And yet what he has is a craving for the foreign and strange. The only sure thing he knows, the surest thing he knows is that that woman riding a horse through London town with a slight expression of frozen fear on her face, is meant to experience everything with him. Because when he steals another look at her - she's carefully tightening the reins in her hands – she has that about her. A look of otherness, of eyes that have seen things much too far and thoughts that have wandered off the edge of the world. And he wonders why. Why such a profound connection to her when he feels as though he's just met her but has actually known her for lifetimes. A woman bathed in gold. A gold dust woman. Does he need to schedule in a time to have a frank discussion with her? She's just blindly following him, does he make her stop? He notices her horse slides as they round the next corner and she lets out a small squeak of surprise.

'What it on the corners, it's a bit slippery!' The Doctor calls back to Rose and she finds her look become flat. Her heart is racing in her chest and she truly believed that she was going over with the horse.

'Yeah, thanks, I gathered that.'

'You're really not good at this, are you?' The Doctor wonders and Rose shakes her head at him.

'Nope, my first and only riding experience was in Aquitaine, that was also high stakes gamble.' Rose calls to him and the Doctor turns over his shoulder to frown. He… can picture that scene. She had been riding a brown horse in a long dress reflective of the twelfth century. Why does he remember that? Was he there?

'Did the gamble pay off?'

She nearly tells him that he ought to know, he was there. But rather than risk the incident that could happen, she doesn't mention anything. Instead she offers him a smile that causes him to look away quickly. 'It sure did.'

'Eleanor was happy, wasn't she?' The Doctor wonders and pauses at his words, who's Eleanor? Rose stares at him.

'What?'

'What?' The Doctor repeats and Rose doesn't press the matter further. There goes her heart rate. Racing through the night on a horse she has no business riding and recalling past adventures in medieval France. Steady now…the last thing she wants is for him to get jolted at once will all his past lives.

'Never mind…' Rose focuses on correcting the horse as they take the next corner sharply. The wind is biting into her cheeks reddening them. Each breath she takes hurts her lungs the air is so cold, it gets suck in her throat.

Nothing more is said between them and Rose can feel the awkwardness growing. Her fears become reignited. What if they can't fix what has been damaged between them? She knows it's too early in the grand scheme of things to start questioning things like that but she is unable to stop herself. Fear the unknown.

When they arrive at the closest bridge that crosses over the Thames the wind is the only thing making a noise. People have gathered around to see the spectacle, Rose slows her horse down and watches as the Doctor dismounts his own horse and leaps onto the railing to over look where the dinosaur once stood before it was brutally killed. Rose carefully swings her leg over the horse and gets down, trailing behind the Doctor and she studies him carefully as he mutters apology after apology to the dinosaur. She wants to tell him that it will be okay, that it wasn't his fault but she knows better. It was their fault. It was their fault they allowed themselves to be swallowed by her and then time travelled with her while lodged in her throat. They brought to an unknown world, she was scared at her surroundings and while they promised to help her and bring her back to the world she knew, they utterly failed at that. They lied to her. They are supposed to help not lie. So Rose doesn't say to him because in doing so it would be an insult and more than likely upset him further. She rests her elbows on the railing and stares at the dinosaur, wondering what or who had the capacity to do that to her. Is there something more sinister at foot here? And if there is then it's up to them to stop it. The fact that the dinosaur's remains are still smouldering cause Rose to straighten up and declare silently that she will find answers to this. Are there similarities to anything else? Can they connect the dots and find out where to start looking.

A carriage pulls up abruptly and Rose turns over her shoulder relieved to be able to identify it as belonging to Vastra. The door swings open and Clara steps out relieved to see Rose followed by Jenny and Vastra. Strax hops down from the driver's seat and Vastra uses a remote to arm the carriage.

'Rose! Doctor! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting. Rose…why'd you let him leave?' Clara chides and Vastra places her and on Clara's shoulder before stopping at Rose's side and gives her a tight smile.

'Wherever there is trouble, Clara, where else would he be?' Vastra replies and Rose looks up to the Doctor when he calls down to her and she waits for him to go on. He points to the dinosaur.

'She was scared. She was scared and alone. We brought her here and look what they did.' He laments and Rose nods her head agreeing with him.

'We will find the connection.' She tells him and his eyes light up, but before he can answer her, Vastra has looked at the dinosaur's remains and closed her eyes.

'Who or what could have done this thing?' She questions and the Doctor shakes his head at her.

'No.' He tells Vastra firmly and she looks up to him.

'I'm sorry?'

'No. That is not the question. That is not where we start.' The Doctor informs them and Strax takes a step towards them and motions to the Thames believing that he understands what the question and starting point should be, because he's superior, of course.

'The question is how. The flesh itself has been combusted…' Strax begins but the Doctor silences him with a single look.

'No, no, shut up! What do you all have for brains – pudding?' The Doctor wonders exasperated and turns around to see the small group that seem to collect around staring at him with dumbfounded expressions.

'Doctor!' Rose scolds and he turns to her and taps her on the head.

'Look at you. Why can't I meet a decent species? Planet of the pudding brains!' The Doctor sighs angrily and Clara walks up to the railing and glances at Rose who has an unreadable expression on her face. Clara leans forward so that the Doctor can see her and he frowns at her. Rose turns to rest her back on the railing watching the crowds thicken. People are staring at the Thames. She continues to scan the crowd until her gaze stops on one person in particular. She straightens up.

'Doctor…I know you're upset, but you need to calm down and talk to us. What is the question?' Clara wonders as she slowly comes towards the railing just in case her movements startle him. She grips the rails first and then eases herself beside him. When Clara looks back to Rose, she's not watching the smouldering dinosaur – or what's left, she's watching the crowds.

'A dinosaur is burning in the heart of London. Nothing left but smoke and flame. The question is…have there been any similar murders?' The Doctor wonders and Vastra widens her eyes and nods her head quickly, rather annoyed she missed the connection at first.

'Yes! Yes, by the goddess, there have!' She exclaims and watches the Doctor turn around to stare at the crowds that have grown in numbers on the embankment. They are nattering amongst themselves, pointing at the mess in the Thames.

The Doctor notices that the blonde – Charlie, is staring at something off to the side. He leans into her and Rose holds her breath, he's so close to her now. She swallows.

'What are you watching?' He questions, keeping his voice low so the others can't hear him just yet. He wants to see if he and Charlie noticed the same thing.

'Of all those who are gawking…why isn't that man?' She points to an odd man with only half a face who is showing no emotion, not fear or excitement, just a blank slate almost as if he is only half alive. 'Do you see him? A dinosaur has died in the Thames. And he's just staring.'

'You noticed him?' The Doctor echoes and Rose nods her head. He likes her more and more. She notices the unusual. Things that aren't right…she's done this before, hasn't she? Beauty and brains. He likes it. He likes her. Oh. Hang on…

'I think he sticks out more than anything or anyone else here. He's intriguing. Don't you think?' Rose turns to him and the Doctor is nodding his head. He's awfully close to her. She bites the corner of her lip and looks away.

'What are you two chattering away about?' Clara calls and the Doctor points to those still gathering on the embankment, looking on gleefully.

'We were talking about all those people over on the embankment – gawking!' The Doctor replies and Clara looks over to them. Indeed…they're drawn to this…gory scene. The Doctor's voice rattles her attention and she looks to him. 'Question two. If all the pudding brains are gawking…then what is he?'

Everyone but the Doctor and Rose turn over to the man who is watching the event unfolding before him and yet offers no reaction. Jenny frowns at the man's lack of movements and Vastra offers a rather cold half smile at the man's stature. He certainly can't be human. He lacks emotions.

'He seems remarkably unmoved by the available spectacle.' Vastra observes and while everyone has their eyes on Vastra the Doctor slowly backs up and turn around to face the waters where he makes a split second decision just as Clara begins to voice her opinion.

'Do you think that's whoever…?' She stops mid sentence as everyone's heads snap around to see a vacant spot where the Doctor used to be standing only to be replaced by a splash. Rose peers over in hopes of seeing him but she can see nothing but the black waters of the Thames. Her heart is pounding in her chest as her eyes dart from left to right trying to see him. 'Oh my god, what's he doing?! He'll drown!' Clara cries out and leans over the rails to try and see him.

'I very much doubt it.' Vastra replies calmly and looks over to Rose who has herself a blank look on her face. Vastra understand immediately what she will do and has gone to a place within herself to help her focus on the mission at hand. Ah, how many times has she too gone to that place?

'Why?' Clara has rooted her fingers into her hair and slowly lowers her hands instead to twist her skirt hem. And why the hell is she the only one panicking about this situation? Why aren't the others? Why the hell isn't Rose?!

Vastra has calmly signalled to Strax to get the carriage and as he brings it around, Vastra smoothes out the supposed wrinkles on her dress and motions to the dinosaur's remains in the Thames. 'There has been a murder. The Doctor has taken up the case. If we are to see him again, we must do the same,' Vastra instructs and Jenny walks towards the carriage and before Vastra follows her, she turns to Rose who is staring out to the waters. 'Rose, I trust we will see you both in good health upon your return?'

'I will certainly try. Our communication will become sparse.' Rose looks over the rails and wonders if she really feels like jumping into the waters, it's rather chilly out. And the last thing she needs to catch a cold. She assesses the situation one more time.

'I should expect so.' Vastra agrees and watches the human girl thinking of a plan to save the man she loves. What a difficult time she must be going through at the moment. And there is little they can do to help them.

'You needn't worry. We'll be fine.' Rose assures them and Vastra smiles at her.

'I truly had no doubt. Come along, Clara. We should get out of the cold.' Vastra turns to go to the carriage and Jenny opens the door for her. Clara watches Vastra go and turns back to Rose, stung by the fact that she isn't invited along for this excursion. Why does Rose get to go and she can't? She can help.

Rose seems to read her thoughts because she places her hands on Clara's shoulders. 'I'm sorry, Clara, that you can't come with me. I don't know how dangerous it could be and I wouldn't want to drag you into any sort of mess and have you get hurt.'

That's a clever way of saying she can't come along because she could get into trouble and mess things up, Clara believes. Jealousy stings. She wouldn't be in the way, and she's smart, too. She could help but is angry she isn't being given the chance to become involved. She's just as worried as Rose is about the Doctor, surely Rose must know that. So why keep her out of things, out of the way? It isn't fair!

And then Clara becomes silently embarrassed at how she's been acting and for what she's been thinking. She didn't mean to become jealous that she couldn't tag along because maybe it is dangerous, maybe even deadly. She's torn. She wants to be mad that she's getting shoved away because she could get in the way of a supposed dangerous mission and guilty for feeling that way. Why can't it be easy? What does Rose know about the Doctor that she doesn't? Has she been through something like this before? Their relationship can be so secretive. How is that fair to any of them? How can she answer Rose in a friendly way without seeming bitter? Is there a way?

'Just…make sure you keep him safe when you find him, okay?' Clara answers and is surprised at herself for her cordial tongue. But she can see the flicker of something in Rose's eyes. Perhaps it's the way Rose may distrust the authenticity behind her words. Is there an animosity growing between them? Clara scoffs internally. No of course not. Now she was being paranoid. God, what a day.

'I will, don't worry.' Rose promises and doesn't miss the relief that flashes before her eyes. But it doesn't mask the low-key hostility that Rose can feel emanate off of Clara. She knows that Clara must be dying to go with her, to help in whatever capacity she can. Rose can't explain why she feels so protective over the Doctor, she always has been. He's in trouble and she believes she's the only one who can help him, even though she knows – how can she not? – that that isn't the case. Everyone can help but perhaps it's because of their history. How…intimate it is. She's protective because of what they have – had, and she desperately is need of recapturing it. She gets him on another level because of their intimate relationship. She wants to help him discover it once more; if she can, and she believes it will be better one on one.

Clara closes her eyes at the drawn out pause. 'Okay, good.'

Rose hops up onto the rails and begins to watch Clara head towards the carriage. Again she can feel the resentment but knows that Clara is smart and resourceful. She will be able to keep a keen eye on things. 'Oh, Clara?'

'Yeah?' Clara turns around hopeful Rose will invite her along but appears dejected when she doesn't.

'You know, no matter how long we're gone for, one sure fire way to get us back to you is to take something that of his that he will always come looking for. No matter what.' Rose explains and Clara stares at her while attempting to understand the cryptic message. Nonetheless, Clara nods and continues on her way to the carriage. She pauses after a moment and turns around back to the railing that Rose had just been standing on but she's no longer there. Even more peculiar is the fact that she didn't hear a splash.

Clara walks towards the carriage and Vastra opens the door for her. She places her foot on the step and is about to get in when Rose's words abruptly make sense to her. She smiles and gets in, taking her time in answering Vastra's inquiry about the smile plastered on her face. She begins to fill them in as Strax directs the carriage home.

* * *

The longer the night wore on the colder it got. She's cold. She can't imagine how the Doctor is. When she had found him, still wet from the Thames, she insisted that they go somewhere warm to keep the cold out but he hadn't listened to her, instead he wanted to continue to hunt for answers to their problems. And so she let him. She followed him, allowing him to open doors, tip over things in search of answers or even clues but they hadn't come up with anything. So far the night had slipped by them into the predawn hours, so again she attempted to get him to someplace warm. Even when some of the men began going around to snuff out the flames on the gas lamps that lined the streets she still couldn't get him to listen to her. Her body had begun to feel the drain from how hard she'd been pushing it and it begged her to sit and rest. And hey, you know if that included sleep, it'd be helpful too.

When they had reached the entranceway to a small park he led her through and when she spied a bench she stopped to sit. When the Doctor noticed that she wasn't with him anymore, he had doubled back and had sat with her. Which had surprised her. Truly she had thought he'd go on without her. She believed that had been a good sign.

However when she had sat down, in somewhat of a protest, her remaining energy reserves had depleted and then she hadn't wanted to get up. So she supposes that's where they left off. Embarrassed by her actions. He sat with her sure, closer than ever – that was okay to her. They hadn't said anything but she hadn't minded. Then she had closed her eyes, intended to blink only but then she had started to doze off. And her head lolled over to rest on his shoulder, which had spooked them both. She woke up in a panic when he jumped out of her reach. One step forward, two steps back.

Rose looks to her hands. She had apologised but now nothing was being said. She desperately wants to move the conversation forward but is unsure of how to go about doing so. Not to mention the fact that her mind is pre occupied with other things. Like how she's cold – the Doctor must be freezing – how she's hungry. How exhausted she is and how she's dying for a hot shower to ease the ache in her muscles from keeping herself tense to naively keep out the cold. No such luck. She racks her mind to think of a way to start conversation. She could open with another apology…that might help. If only she could stop this shivering. Great, now it's internal. She needs to stop. So she wraps her arms around herself and turns herself away from him.

'Are you…cold?'

Rose turns over to the Doctor with a slight frown. 'Not as cold as I'm sure you are.'

He smiles at her before looking away. 'We're biologically different.'

Rose playfully rolls her eyes. 'That a no?'

'That's a maybe.' The Doctor answers and turns back to her. However odd this night has been she feels comforted by his presence. She hopes he feels the same.

'Good, I thought for a moment you were going to say that humans are inferior and so we'd succumb to the cold quicker.'

'Is that something I would say? However true it is?'

'There it is,' Rose smiles. 'Sometimes.'

'I like humans. Most humans. Most of the time.'

'I know.'

There is a pause. A lull. She looks to the sky and counts the stars she can see. The Doctor moving closer to her surprises her and hopes that it's a sign he's getting more comfortable when he's around her.

'Do you miss the stars?' The Doctor questions and Rose smiles a bit. She blows on her hands to keep them warm. Her fingers have begun to turn red from exposure to the cold. Hopefully the damn sun will hurry up and rise so it will burn off some of the cold air.

'I do.' She confesses and nearly adds she misses their closeness but stops herself.

'I'll get you back up there, if that's what'll make you happy.'

'I know you will.' Rose turns red when he takes her hands in his and studies them, fixated on the ring she still wears on her left middle finger and the faint scar that runs across the top of her hand. The Doctor continues to turn her hands over in his and study them.

'You _are_ cold,' The Doctor comments and smiles. 'I remember this ring. It's Russian.'

Rose swallows a lump in her throat. 'It is. A parting gift.'

'For lives you saved.' The Doctor remembers faintly seeing an elderly woman in the embrace of two young children. Russian. Charlie got lost there, didn't she? Who's the red head he's getting faint visions of?

'A long time ago, it feels like.'

The Doctor looks at her. Her nose is red and so are her cheeks. Maybe that's why she was so tired. She's succumbing to hypothermia. That's bad. He should get her somewhere warm. Or at least some warmer clothes. 'If you're so cold, why don't you go somewhere warm?'

'Are you going to follow me if I do?' Rose wonders, already knowing his answer. He doesn't look at her and so she smiles. 'Since I'll take that as no, don't worry about me, then. I'll be fine. We have more important things to do anyway.'

'Your…hands say otherwise.' He was going to say her body but didn't feel as though it was appropriate. Or is it? He truly doesn't know anymore. She sometimes looks at him with an intimate look. Almost like longing. Were they…together?

'I've been through worse. A little cold…nothing to it. Builds character.' Rose tells him but can't stop the smile that appears on her face; neither can the Doctor because he looks away when she smiles.

'You couldn't say that with a straight face.' He observes and Rose snickers, shrugging when he shifts his gaze back to her.

'No, you're right.' Rose covers her mouth to hide the grin she can't seem to get rid of.

As dawn light breaks overhead the Doctor turns back to the direction of the city. Humans are fragile, he knows that. And he's certain that she's pushed herself beyond her means. She's cold and if that's the case then she may also be hungry. She doesn't have any energy to keep up the good fight. And while he didn't admit to her that he was cold also – he is. Maybe a trip into the heart of the city would be beneficial as well. For both of them…but more so for her.

'Are you…hungry?'

Rose blinks from the surprise. 'Maybe.'

The Doctor jumps to his feet and points to the city heart, curious, Rose also gets to her feet and crosses her arms waiting for an explanation. 'Come on, Charlie, the clues to this mystery aren't going to be found in a park, they're only going to be found if we're up and looking for them!'

Rose watches him run off towards the city and she sighs, pressing her hand to her forehead and closing her eyes. 'It's not…dammit, it's not Charlie. It's Rose. My name's Rose…'

She sprints to catch up with him and tears sting her eyes. Only she's not sure if it's because of the cold wind or something else. It's the sting of that name, of his confusion their identities that remind her of two losses. She runs harder; hoping that the harder she runs the more she can convince herself it's just the wind.

* * *

Commotion has drawn her attention to the window and so Clara sets the water jug down before tilting her head at the loudness of Strax's voice as he directs something. She heads towards the window and tightens the shawl around the nightdress that Jenny had been kind enough to lend her. Everything is just so…loose and not at all warm. She didn't know what to believe, she thought Rose would find the Doctor and they'd be back within a few hours or so…but that wasn't the case. Why? Did she not find him yet? No, Rose can do anything.

'Come on, Earthling scum! Position it here. Easy now! That's it, careful…' Strax orders and Clara moves the drapes further to the side so she can peer out. She rests her head on her hand while she observes Strax directing two men who unload the TARDIS into the courtyard. He's also carrying a rolled up newspaper. 'Don't get it scratched or you and all your bloodline will be obliterated from time and space.'

There is an awkward pause before one of the men peers around the TARDIS with a small, strained smile. 'Very good, sir.'

'Strax!' Clara calls up and he turns around to look up to the window where he nods his head at her in acknowledgement.

'Ah, morning, Miss Clara. You're awake at last.'

Clara points to the TARDIS as the men who unloaded it walk around it trying to decipher what the box could contain. 'You got the TARDIS, then?'

Strax nods and keeps a careful eye on the men staring at it. 'Military tactics, Miss Clara, an excellent suggestion. The Doctor and the other boy Rose are still missing, but the Doctor will always come looking for this box, which means the boy will follow him. By bringing it here, he will be lured from the dangers of London to this place of safety, and we will melt him with acid.'

Clara blinks at the final part of his sentence and smiles. 'Okay, that last part?'

Strax pauses as he reassesses his words and nods his head in understanding. 'And we will not melt him with acid. Old habits,' He explains and glances to the newspaper still in his hand. 'The Times. Shall I send it up?'

'Yeah, why not?' Clara calls to him and Strax lobs the paper up to the top window Clara has been watching from however he throws it with such force that it hits her squarely in the head and she lets out a squeak of surprise as she falls over.

She stares at the ceiling in surprise and hopes that they won't have to wait long for the Doctor and Rose's return. Oh…she thinks she feels a headache coming on. Is it because of the newspaper or because of how mundane the real world is? She doesn't break eye contact with the ceiling as she thinks of a way to reach them. What about a message? She could send them a message to meet her somewhere, that might work. She scoffs at her own foolishness. That's the oldest idea in the book. He'd never even get the message. It'd have to be so obvious that he could miss it. How'd she even do that? What message could she possibly use that would be cryptic enough that only he'd understand? Time to think of another plan.

* * *

Rose leans against the brick exterior of a building and pulls the riding jacket she'd managed to steal from a house earlier in the morning. Clearly meant to be worn with a corset but she wasn't touching one, not for a long time. Problem was the house she broke into happened to be the house of a widow, so as such there wasn't anything in the ways for the Doctor to have but he had seemed pleased she found something a bit thicker to keep the wind out.

They wandered around the streets for a bit while they waited for the shops to open so she could get food before he had abruptly darted into an alleyway and she caught him just before he rounded the next corner and disappeared into another one.

Now she watches him rifling through the trash and junk. She closes her eyes before opening them and looks around, wondering if she could spy some laundry drying or something she could take to keep him warm. That nightshirt hasn't dried out at all.

'If you promise me you'll stay here, I will find you something.' Rose calls to him and he pauses from his rummaging to stare at her. He shakes his head.

'No, it's too bright out now. You'll be caught. No matter how…easy you made the first one look. You just didn't choose the right one.' The Doctor replies and goes back to the junk. Rose crosses her arms and frowns.

'Well, how the hell was I to know that house _we_ selected was a widow's house? You insisted I take something for myself to be warm. I was perfectly content with trying again.' Rose laments and the Doctor shakes his head, tossing a book he found over his shoulder.

'No, no point in that. We have everything we need right here.' The Doctor tells her and Rose shakes her head. She inhales deeply and breathes out slowly.

'Give me ten minutes and I will get something for you.'

'No.'

'Why must you be so stubborn? I'm only trying to help.'

They don't see a tramp has entered the alleyway as well and paused to listen to them argue. He watches the man dressed in only a nightshirt and his rather pretty toffer glare at each other before the man in the nightshirt pulls out a mirror and stares at himself. Again they dissolve into an argument and hoping to get their attention the tramp tosses the bottle he had been holding onto the ground where is shatters into pieces. The toffer jumps and gasps and the man turns around to look at what caused the noise.

'What'd you do that for?' The toffer questions and the tramp points to the man in the nightshirt.

'What's goin' on here, then? You chasing him cause he stiffed you on payment? Call the coppers; they'll get your money. After they arrest you, I'd think.' The tramp informs her and the toffer tilts her head, she opens her mouth to question his meaning when she abruptly closes it and balls her fists. She walks towards him just as the man in the nightshirt steps forward to secure her arm. She does that a lot, he vaguely remembers. That's a natural reaction for him.

'Are you insinuating that I am a prostitute?' Rose's look falls flat and she turns to the Doctor who reluctantly releases her arm.

The tramp pauses and looks around. 'Why else would you be chasing a man through the alleyways?'

'That's hardly any of your business.'

'Bitey.' The Doctor informs the tramp casually and he frowns. Is the man drunk, too and that's why the toffer followed him? He's forgotten to pay her because he's too drunk and she's waiting until he sobers up? That could be awhile. Still doesn't explain why he's rooting around the trash.

'Bitey?' The tramp repeats and the Doctor nods his head, tossing an umbrella over his shoulder. The tramp looks over to the man who's nodding his head.

'The air…it's bitey, it's wet and bitey. Charlie says it's cause it's -…'

'Oh, it's cold!' The tramp interrupts and the Doctor rushes towards the man and nods his head. The tramp looks a bit uneasy and Rose spies a newspaper the Doctor had discarded and picks it up, it's a bit wet but she can still read it.

'That's right. It's cold! It's cold. I knew it was a thing. We had to…borrow…a jacket for Charlie because she was cold, but she borrowed from the wrong house. So now I need, um…I need clothes -…'

'Which I could have gotten you.' Rose calls from her spot against the wall and the Doctor shakes his head at her.

'No! No more borrowing. But I do still need clothes, that's what I need,' The Doctor tells the tramp who is starting to become a bit uncomfortable with the flighty attitude of this man. The Doctor rubs the back of his neck after a burst of wind whips through the alleyway. 'And a big, long scarf. No, no, move on from that, looked stupid. Um…have you seen this face before?'

The tramp looks to the toffer engrossed in the newspaper before looking back to the man. 'No.'

'Are you sure?' The man repeats and the tramp nods his head solemnly.

'Sir, I have never seen that face before.'

The Doctor nods his head at the tramp before turning back to Rose. 'Charlie…you're certain you've never seen this face before?'

'Oh, yes.' Rose tells him without looking up from the paper.

'You didn't look. You have to look and then tell me no.'

Rose sighs and glances up from the paper. 'Yes, Doctor, I have never…' She stops. Maybe it's the light in the alleyway. Maybe it's something else but she does feel a twang of recognition. She doesn't recall where or when. Maybe she has seen that face before. Then again…she could be going crazy. Until she knows for certain the answer is no. Because her mind could very well – and probably is – playing tricks on her. 'No. I haven't.'

'You hesitated!' The Doctor comments on the fact that she's stalled at first. She paused to really look. Those hazel eyes searched through him at his request. Did she recognise it? If she does she's lying to him. Is this face another mystery they're going to have to solve?

'I did not!' Rose insists and buries her nose into the paper.

'Er…why this one? Why did I choose…this face?' The Doctor wonders and he walks towards Rose who is still reading the paper. 'Charlie? Why this face?'

'Doctor, I'm sure I don't know. You always said to me regeneration was a lottery.' Rose lowers the paper and folds it half. The Doctor shakes his head quickly and takes her hand and places it on his cheek. Rose isn't sure what to do. He's holding her eyes so deeply with his.

'No, no. It can't be. It's like I'm trying to tell myself something, like I'm trying to make a point. But what is so important that I can't just tell myself what I'm thinking?' The Doctor laments and Rose draws her hand away quickly, and hides the fact that it's shaking. She presses her lips together.

'Er…' The tramp begins but stops himself, this whole…incident is something that he really doesn't want to get involved in. In fact he should have just pressed onward when he heard the commotion and not let curiosity get the better of him.

The Doctor looks over to the tramp and then back to Charlie who is absently rubbing her hands and yet both are silent. He motions to them both. 'I'm not just being rhetorical here, you can join in.'

'I don't like it.' The tramp cuts in and Rose frowns at him. The Doctor is nodding his head at the tramp's words. Really taking them apart to understand their meaning. He notices that Charlie has a scowl on her face.

'Well, that's rather rude. Don't you have manners? Don't like it, keep your mouth shut.' Rose snaps sharply and the tramp looks away shyly at her words. She's a saucy toffer, no wonder she got stiffed for her money.

'But he wanted honesty.'

'I don't care, lie.'

'No, no he's right, Charlie. I agree with him,' The Doctor replies and Rose stares at him with a perplexed stare, confused by his words. 'Do you like it?'

'It's fine. It makes you look distinguished. Maybe people will take you more…seriously than before.' She smiles at him and her smile causes the Doctor to look away. Her smile…does she always do that to him? Make him lose his train of thought? She goes back to reading the paper.

'Oh, well in that case maybe it isn't so bad. It's all right up until the eyebrows. Then it just goes haywire. Look at the eyebrows! These are attack eyebrows. You could take bottle tops off with these!' The Doctor declares and he watches Charlie start to snicker and she lowers the paper to give him a smirk and shake her head. Damn her smile. And her laugh.

'They are mighty eyebrows indeed, sir.' The tramp agrees, breaking the Doctor's fixation on Rose and he widens his eyes at another realisation.

'They're cross! They're crosser than the rest of my face. They're independently cross. They probably want to cede from the rest of my face and set up their own independent state of eyebrows.' He pauses his rant when Charlie sighs audibly.

'Doctor! Okay…we get it.' Rose chides gently and he glances between the tramp and Rose several times.

'That rant. That's Scot…I am Scottish. I've gone Scottish.' The Doctor states stunned and Rose glances up with a smile. Relieved he's starting to figure out little things about himself. She flips the page in the paper and continues to read.

'Oh, yes, you are. You are definitely Scots, sir. I…I 'ear it in your voice.' The tramp confirms and watches the man walk around the alley a bit. The tramp begins to get a bit nervous over the man's eccentric attitude. Eccentric means anything could happen. He's not entirely sure he wants to be a part of that.

'Oh, no, that's good. Oh! Oh! It's good I'm Scottish, I'm Scottish. I am Scottish. I can complain about things. I can really complain about things now,' The Doctor decides and the tramp nods his head enthusiastically with a slight smile that morphs into a frown when the Doctor holds out his hand. 'Give me your coat.'

The tramp shakes his head. 'No.'

'I'm cold.' The Doctor complains and Rose lowers the paper and sighs, rolling her eyes.

'I'm cold.' The tramp echoes forcibly and folds his arms, hoping it deter the man from asking further. The Doctor throws his hands up and sighs in frustration.

'I'm cold. Well, there's no point in us both being cold, give me your coat. Give me your coat! No, wait. Shut up, shut up!' The Doctor rushes back over to Rose who widens her eyes at him.

'What? What?' Rose holds out her hands to stop him unsure if he'd run into her. He yanks the newspaper out of her hands and starts to look through it. 'What? What'd you see?'

'I missed something. It was here, it was here. It was…what was it? I saw, what did I see?' He flips through the paper until he finds what he's looking for and turns it over for Rose to see. 'This is what I saw! Spontaneous combustion!' The Doctor shows the tramp and the tramp frowns, squinting to read the print.

'What devilry is this, sir?' The tramp wonders and the Doctor shrugs.

'I don't know, but I probably blame the English.' The Doctor replies somewhat seriously.

'Oi! Watch it.' Rose points her finger at the Doctor and snatches the paper from him. She goes back to leaning against the wall. She's certain that the Doctor and vagabond go back to arguing about the coat when she catches something…coincidental about the Doctor's relationship with Clara. She rereads the two words over and over again. They've made contact.

'I promise I'll give it back!' The Doctor insists and the tramp shakes his head again. It causes the Doctor to sigh loudly in frustration once more.

Rose waves him over without breaking eye contact from the paper and when he doesn't respond to her, she motions harder. 'Doctor, Doctor, come here. A message, I've found a message.'

'What?' The Doctor looks over his shoulder from tugging the coat off the tramp and the tramp is attempting to shove the Doctor off of him.

'Come here, stop bugging that man and come here!' Rose calls and tilts her head as she attempts to decipher the meaning. On the other side. What could that mean? She vaguely hears the shouts and curse words coming from the tramp as the Doctor rushes over to her and peers at the newspaper over her shoulder.

'Where? Where's the message?'

Rose is about to point to him when she notices that he's got something on him that he shouldn't have. 'Did you take that man's jacket?'

'Yes…I borrowed it. Like you borrowed yours.'

Rose shakes her head. 'No there's a difference. That woman won't notice it's gone. That man depended on that jacket to keep him warm. That woman lives in a house and that poor man lives on the streets. Did you at least give him some money to get another one?'

'I haven't got money.' The Doctor doesn't understand why there is suddenly a grey area to taking something that doesn't belong to one. Rose folds the newspaper and tucks it under her arm. She digs around for some money she's certain she's left in these pants from another visit to Victorian London.

'Course you don't. Maybe one time it'd be nice to go Dutch.' She sighs and checks her back pocket.

When she finds them she rushes back to the man who is standing at the mouth of the alley looking forlorn. Rose places her hand on the man's shoulder and he turns around. The Doctor watches her motion to him with her thumb over her shoulder and he frowns. She's a caring person, always wanting to be sure everyone has been taken care of. He watches her drop a few coins into the man's hands and directs him where to go to get a good deal on a warm coat – if he mentions her name. The tramp watches with a stunned and confused look on his face as Rose heads back to the Doctor and takes the newspaper from under her arm to bat the Doctor on the side of his arm. Coupled with a stern look he can tell she's not impressed by his actions.

'That was nice of you.' The Doctor watches the tramp wrap his arms around himself and walk out onto the streets. Rose is flipping through the paper trying to find the place where the message is.

'If he counts it properly, he'll see there's enough to catch a coach and a meal,' Rose replies without looking up from the paper. 'I couldn't let him walk away without knowing he'd be looked after. Ah, here it is. Look.'

The Doctor reads a small advert at the bottom of the page and tilts his head. In a small box are two words that instantly grab his attention. _Impossible Girl._ That's the bossy girl he was with earlier. The brown haired girl.

'That other girl. That's what I called her.' The Doctor leans forward and studies the other words just under Impossible Girl. Rose nods her head. Again she takes note of how close he is to her. Please let that be a good sign.

'Yes, that's what you call Clara. She must have put an advert in hoping to get into contact with us. Since I'm notoriously bad for keeping people up to date, she must have gotten tired of waiting for us.' Rose again looks to the clue left at the bottom of the page, no doubt to prove it's truly them when they finally decipher it and meet her at the location. Wherever the 'other side' may be.

'Where is the location of our meet up?' The Doctor takes the paper from Rose and turns it different ways to try and make sense of the clues.

'Wherever the other side is.'

'That's very ambiguous.' The Doctor complains and brings the paper closer to his face. Rose gently pulls it back and the Doctor frowns at her so she gives him a little smile.

'I believe that's the point. Leave it vague yet simple enough so we would understand it and meet her there.' Rose explains and the Doctor passes the paper back to Rose in a flourish. He folds his arms and begins to pace.

'But I don't get it.'

Rose studies the paper further. Vague and simple, the less complex the better. The other side. The other side of what? The other side of London? Plausible perhaps but maybe not that easy. The other side. If thinking outside of the box is to be expected of them maybe she needs to start thinking inside the box. Out and not in. The other side. Other side of the Thames? No, no that could still be too obvious. Make it simpler. Rose just removes the sheet of newspaper that has their message on it and discards the rest of paper. What can be simpler than the other side? As she holds the paper up to her eye level, arms extended in front of her, the light shines on the paper and makes the print of the advert on the opposite side visible, contrasting with her message. She widens her eyes. Of course! So simple, it's dead simple!

'I've got it.' Rose announces and the Doctor whips around to stare at her. He rushes over to her and stands beside her, staring at the page of paper in her hands. Still looks like words to him.

'What? What'd you mean you've got it?' The Doctor continues to study the paper and Rose smiles.

'Clara made it simple because she knows you don't like puzzles – short attention span. You're not a complicated person, you like simple.' Rose explains and the Doctor looks affronted by her assessment of his personality.

'I don't like puzzles?'

Rose can't help it and she starts to laugh. 'Not at all! Do you remember the one time we challenged each other to who could finish the New York Times crossword puzzle the quickest and you got stuck on a word and gave up? Then you accused me of cheating when I actually finished it?'

'No! Well…a little bit.' The Doctor confesses and can't recall what sparked the challenge, though he did remember the two of them sitting on a chair in the console room of TARDIS doing two separate crossword puzzles. And his declaration of how ridiculous it was before disappearing. Only to have Charlie here march over to him and she had tossed her completed puzzle on the floor.

'Right so…keeping it simple…' Rose trails off and flips the paper over to reveal another advert on the backside of their message. When she turns it over it reads Mancini's Family Restaurant. 'Literally on the other side.'

The Doctor laughs and embraces her tightly. 'We were over thinking it!'

'Yes!'

The Doctor quickly grabs Rose's hand and tugs her down the alleyway and into the streets, which are filling quickly with the morning traffic. 'Come on, Charlie, we have a lunch date with a bossy girl!'

Rose struggles to get into step with the Doctor and jumps over a rather large puddle he attempts to lead her through the streets. 'Do you know where you're going?' He doesn't answer her for a bit and Rose sighs.

'Nope!'

She attempts to direct him as best she can. She does have a feeling she is going to have to apologise profusely for forgetting to keep Clara informed as to what had been happening. But thankfully Clara is immensely resourceful and thought of her own way to get their attention. She'll have to applaud her for that.

* * *

There is an eeriness to this restaurant. Clara turns over her shoulder to stare at the street her back faces to watch the bustle of the street. Carriages and handsome cabs go up and down the streets, the impact of the horses' hooves hitting the cobblestone echo in the streets long after the horses have carted off their passengers. Foot traffic moves every which way, conversation between people grows closer before moving by her. A normal, typical day in London. And yet when Clara turns her gaze back to the restaurant…why does she feel her heart rate increase and dread build within her? She continues to linger in the doorway. Something deep within her tells her this is dangerous and not to go in.

But then why is another part of her wondering why she's so skittish? It calmly points out that there are multiple diners at this restaurant, all sitting and looking a menus, there isn't anything wrong. Her head directs her left foot forward and Clara takes a few precarious inside and shuts the door behind her. No one notices or even acknowledges that she's arrived. Their gaze hasn't shifted from the menus. Clara swallows an awkward lump and removes the paper with the message in it out from under her arm. Pressing her lips together Clara studies the diners as she walks to an empty table against the wall. The heel of her shoe clicks loudly. The air is so still that one could almost hear a pin drop. This is not an inviting atmosphere. Instead it's thick with tension and apprehension.

As she walks to the table, she studies the patrons and finds herself keep her guard high. How can so many people be engrossed in their menus and still not have a decent conversation? Clara pauses in her step and glances over her shoulder to stare at the closest table before her gaze jumps from one table to the next. That's what is so unnerving about this place. No one, not one single person, is talking. That explains the eerie silence. There is zero conversation. Clara hurries to the vacant table and sits. She finds herself breathing heavily and buries her nose into the paper hoping to keep the attention on her arrival minimal at best.

When she inhales to calm her heart rate, the breath gets stuck in her throat and she nearly coughs. What is that smell? It's horrendous! Clara takes another sniff and covers her mouth and nose with her hand. She drops the paper to the table and begins looking around for the source of it. She can't find anything. And the weight of the silence feels as though it's growing. Defeated, Clara looks down to the newspaper before jumping when her eyes catch sight of Rose and the Doctor now sitting beside her. How in the hell did they manage that? It's so quiet and yet they arrived with no noise whatsoever. Rose she could see, her middle name should be stealth but not the Doctor. She imagines the quieter he attempts to be the louder he'd become. Clara notices that Rose sniffs and crinkles her nose in disgust at whatever is making that horrendous smell. She starts to look for the source as well, Clara accidently gets a nose full of the stench and she coughs.

The Doctor's look falls right on Clara and he frowns at her coughing. 'What's wrong?' He wonders and Clara gapes at him. She motions to their surroundings.

'I don't know! Maybe the smell?' Clara hisses and the Doctor nods his head, noticing that Charlie is turning all over in her seat until she kneels on the seat and turns over to look at the rest of the patrons.

'I know, it's everywhere.' The Doctor agrees and joins in with the people watching. The people there are almost surreal. It's such an odd thing to witness.

'Where did you get that coat?' Clara's question causes the Doctor to look back to her and when he shifts his gaze around to other things in the restaurant, Clara finds her face draining of emotion and she folds her arms. This ought to be good.

'Er…I bought it.' The Doctor informs her and Clara arches her eyebrow. He's such a terrible liar.

'From where?' Clara wonders innocently and the Doctor rubs the back of his head.

'Er…a shop?'

'No. Rose?' Clara calls and Rose slips back down to sit at the table with them.

'He took it from a tramp.' Rose informs Clara and she sighs.

The Doctor points to Rose. 'Well, she stole hers!'

'You stole yours too!' Clara cries and the Doctor stares at her.

'And again, let me remind you that my stealing was from a wealthy widow who won't notice it's missing! Not from some poor soul on the streets.' Rose replies hotly and the Doctor sighs audibly from frustration.

'But I didn't have money!' The Doctor insists and Rose and Clara exchange looks. Clara's is one horrified expression and Rose is about to explain that she gave him money when the Doctor finishes off his thought. 'I offered my watch.'

Rose's head whips around to him. 'When did you do that?'

'You had your nose in the paper.' The Doctor answers and Rose closes her eyes and sighs. That explains the tussle earlier. She mentally tuned it out. And in doing so she just cost the Doctor a gorgeous watch.

'That was a beautiful watch!' Clara replies horrified and the Doctor nods his head solemnly in agreement. Thankfully he still has it on him. He wouldn't know what to do if the tramp had agreed to take it in exchange for the coat. Maybe not given it to him?

'I know it was. Thankfully the tramp didn't think so and didn't want it.' The Doctor tells them and Rose breathes out a sigh of relief, resting her head on the back of the booth as Clara closes her eyes satisfied. When she opens them, the Doctor is smiling at her.

Clara straightens up. 'No, no. Don't, don't…don't, don't smile. I will smile first and then you know it's safe to smile.' She states seriously and Rose glances from Clara to the Doctor. She lumped in with that statement as well? She must be. She was also lacking in the communications department. Clara is livid. That much is certain.

The Doctor leans forward a bit and drops his voice. 'Are you cross with me? Cross with us?'

Clara scoffs, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. Rose shifts a bit towards the Doctor, the anger is palpable. 'I am not cross, but if I was cross it would be your fault. Both of yours…and, yes I am cross.' Clara exhales having not paused to take a breath the entire time.

The Doctor looks at Rose and smiles when she does. 'I guessed that.'

'I am extremely cross.' Clara insists and Rose nods her head in agreement. She can hear the 'teacher' voice in Clara. And boy, does Rose ever feel as though she's getting scolded for doing something wrong. Just like in elementary school.

The Doctor glances to Charlie when she shifts and stares at her lap. He can almost see the thoughts running through her mind. He looks up to the cross brunette who is almost glaring at him. He thinks he knows why she's so angry with him. Clearly Clara doesn't like change. Then again, who truly does? Is this his fault? Did he make her feel the way she did by changing?

'And if I hadn't changed my face, would you still be crossed?' The Doctor wonders and stares at Charlie when she places her hand on his arm in comfort. She shakes her head.

'Oh, Doctor, no…' She begins but draws her hand away when Clara rests her elbows on the table and gives them each a sharp glare.

'Rose is right. I would be cross even if I wasn't cross!' Clara states curtly and the Doctor frowns, really not understanding her hostility. He looks over to Charlie with a look that pleads for her to explain Clara's hostility. Much to the Doctor's dismay, he gets no response. He's gotta do it himself.

'Why?' The Doctor finally questions and Clara looks as though he's got three heads. She looks to Rose who gives her a shy shrug and a little smile. Clara knows Roses gets it. Why can't the Doctor seem to get it?

'Why?' Clara echoes and presses her hand to her forehead and exhales her frustration. 'An ordinary person wants to meet someone that they know very well for lunch, what do they do?'

The Doctor doesn't understand her question. Is it a trick one? Well normal people, what do they do? They're no fun, he dragged Charlie here. But they're not normal, are they? Normal. Think normal. 'Well, they probably…get in touch and suggest lunch.' He concludes and Clara is already nodding her head in agreement. His answer was correct.

'Mm hm. Okay, so what sort of person would put a cryptic note in…in a newspaper advert?' Clara questions and Rose frowns and looks to the Doctor before turning back to Clara.

'What you think that was us?' Rose interrupts and Clara's eyes dart between Rose and the Doctor.

'Yes?'

'No, we thought it was you.' Rose insists and Clara shakes her head.

'No because…well it just has the Doctor all over it. Right?' Clara feels herself becoming quieter as she finds Rose staring at the Doctor and well…if it wasn't them. Who?

'I would be inclined to agree that whoever that person is would be an egomaniac, needy, game player sort of person.' The Doctor cuts in and Rose finds herself staring at him with a flat look on her face. She really wishes he wouldn't change the subject like that.

Clara points at the Doctor in agreement. 'Thank you. Well, at least that hasn't changed.'

'And I don't think it ever will.' The Doctor agrees and enjoys that Clara is smiling at him. Maybe she's getting more comfortable around him. That'd make him happy.

'Amen,' Rose replies but her eyes fall to the paper Clara has just put on the table. 'But…it doesn't explain why you think we placed that advert, Clara. We thought it was you.'

Clara is already shaking her head before Rose has a chance to finish her sentence. 'No. No…no, I didn't place the ad, Rose. You placed the ad.'

The Doctor frowns. 'No, we didn't.'

Clara takes the paper in her hand and flips to the advert in question. 'Yes, you placed the ad, I figured it out! Impossible Girl, see, lunch?' Clara holds up the paper to them when she finds the spot in question. Rose shakes her head in disagreement and the Doctor leans forward to take the paper from Clara.

'No, look, the Impossible…that is a message _from_ the Impossible Girl.' The Doctor explains and Clara folds her arms and frowns.

' _For_ the Impossible…Girl.'

Rose feels something icy drop into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly their little argument about who's right seems petty and vindictive. 'Guys?'

'Oh? Oh?' The Doctor looks around and Clara sighs.

'Hmm…'

'Well, if neither of us placed that ad, who placed…that ad?' The Doctor trails off and begins to look around at the diners who have still not engaged one another in any conversation and yet it feels as though thousands of eyes are watching their every move.

'Ever get the feeling you're being watched?' Rose wonders out loud and the Doctor nods his head in agreement. Clara is about to ask Rose something when she abruptly remembers something the Doctor said about the personality of one who may have placed the ad.

'Hang on, 'egomaniac, needy, game player?" Clara questions firmly and the Doctor turns over to Rose having ignored Clara entirely. Clara feels the annoyance fester within her at what the Doctor had been supposedly implying about her.

'This could be a trap.' He informs Rose and she glances over to him.

'I'm beginning to get that feeling. But who, and why? And how long until things about us become noticed. We haven't conformed.' Rose states and the Doctor looks over to her with an arched eyebrow. Good to know they're on the same page.

'That was me?' Clara interjects and the Doctor dismisses her thought with a flick of his wrist. He continues to hold Rose's stare as they silently have a conversation about what to do and where to go from here. How many steps to the exit and what would happen if they all got up and left?

'Never mind that.' The Doctor replies and Clara huffs in anger, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red. Who the hell does he think he is calling her an egomaniac?

'Yes, I am minding that!' Clara states hotly and Rose taps her finger on the table to get Clara's attention but she misses the cue. Instead cutlery begins to be heard. The diners are starting to eat. Why does that unsettle her more? Rose studies them. She widens her eyes. How…terrible. That is not good.

'Clara…' Rose begins but she ignores Rose and glares at the Doctor.

'You were talking about me?' Clara insists, answering her own question. But she'd feel a hell of a lot better if the Doctor would come out and admit his comment was about her.

The Doctor glances to Rose who is carefully watching the other diners. 'Clara, what is happening right now in this restaurant to you, me and Charlie is more important than your egomania.'

'Nothing is more important than my egomania!' Clara hisses hotly and notices that the Doctor and Rose exchange surprised looks.

'Wow…' Rose trails off and finds herself smiling at Clara's outburst.

'Right, okay, she actually said that.' The Doctor tells Rose and she says nothing but nods her head. God Clara hates it when the two of them team up like that. For god sake he can't even get Rose's name right but their damned idiosyncrasies never fail to pair up at the most inappropriate times.

'You two never mention that again!' Clara exclaims and Rose holds up her hands in agreement, immediately backing off.

'Can we move this conversation back on track, please? I need to tell you all something. Before we make more of a scene and draw more attention to ourselves.' Rose wonders and the Doctor begins scratching his head.

'It's…it's a vanity trap. You're so busy congratulating yourself on solving the puzzle,' The Doctor gently pulls a hair from his head but doesn't look at it at first. 'You don't notice that you're sticking your head in a noose.' He holds the hair up by his fingertips and studies it. Rose frowns at his analogy while Clara gapes at him.

'What are you doing?' She questions and finds herself soften slightly as the Doctor doesn't answer her but instead continues to study the hair. 'And that isn't the only grey one, if you are, erm, having a cull.'

The Doctor looks at Clara with an indifferent look. 'What, do you have a problem with the grey ones?'

'If I got new hair, and it was grey, I would have a problem.' Clara retorts and the Doctor rolls his eyes. Rose presses her hands to her face. So this is how it's going to be?

'Yeah, I bet you would.' The Doctor's tone is snarky and Clara folds her arms at him in protest. She scoffs and arches her eyebrow at him.

'Meaning?'

'It's too short.' The Doctor replies and leans forward towards Clara who instinctively draws away but too late. The Doctor reaches for something on Clara head and when he appears to have it, he pulls.

'Ow!' Clara's hand immediately flies to her head and rubs. The Doctor shrugs half-heartedly.

'Sorry, it was the only one out of place. I'm sure you would want it killed.' He tells her and looks over to Rose. She's watching him fascinated.

'Ooh, are you trying to tell me something?' Clara wonders but doesn't know what it could be, and so maybe that's why the tone she used came out a bit sarcastic. When Clara looks at Rose she can see the uneasiness in her eyes. But why?

'I'm trying to measure the air disturbance in the room.' The Doctor explains and Clara smiles ironically and shakes her head, leaning back against the booth seat and sighs.

'Right, moments when you know you are boring.' She replies coolly and Rose watches the couple closest to her. She nudges the Doctor and he turns to them.

'That…isn't good,' Rose whispers and the Doctor nods his head. They continue to observe the closest couple until Rose looks over to the table beside that couple. Same thing. Mechanised movements…are they real? Going through the motions, never actually eating. 'Doctor. Over there, woman in the dark blue dress. Same thing. Drop the hair.' She instructs and he does so. It falls straight to the ground.

'Concerning. I see. Are you…thinking?' The Doctor leans into Rose and questions. Rose gives him a bit of a pained look, knowing he meant is she thinking of an escape plan. Yes, but she's got this nagging feeling if they leave…something's going to happen.

'Thing is…if they anticipate our movements…things could get a bit…sideways when we leave.' Rose anticipates an interception of their exit and looks for something she could use to carve them out a path if need be.

'Good point. We should still try though. No harm in that.' The Doctor decides and straightens up while Rose counts the steps to the door.

'What? What are you two gossiping about?' Clara wonders with a sigh and the Doctor can't believe that she doesn't see it. How is that possible? Is she pretending not to?

'There is something extremely wrong with everybody else in the room.' The Doctor tells her flatly and Clara rolls her eyes. Tired of how everything they do together is the result of some problem.

'Basically, don't you always say that?' Clara questions rhetorically, now he's even got Rose wrapped up in this little game of his. Honestly the two of them have to feed off one another's energy for seeing trouble when there really isn't anything wrong.

'Look at them,' The Doctor instructs and Clara sighs impatiently but decides to humour him and turns over her shoulder to stare at the diners. She doesn't stare for long because the Doctor's hoarse whisper causes her to jump. 'Don't look!'

Clara whips around and glares at him. 'You just said to look.'

'Peripheral vision, Clara,' Rose explains and she leans closer, her voice barely above a whisper that Clara struggles to hear it. 'Look at them, but don't see them.'

Clara does as she is instructed and keeps her head facing Rose and the Doctor but ever so slightly turns her head to the left to get just a few tables in her line of vision. And? What's so unnerving? They are eating. Cutlery hits the china; sounds are made, echoing around them. There is nothing odd about what is unfolding before them. People are out enjoying their meal. The two of them are trying to make something from nothing. As always.

'Seriously? Guys, they look fine. They're just eating.' Clara informs them and Rose and the Doctor each steal a sideways look at one another. Rose presses her lips together. Clara saw…but she didn't look.

'Are they?' The Doctor wonders and rests his elbows on the table. Clara frowns at him and is about to argue with him some more when she decides to take a better look. A look without looking.

Clara widens her eyes. Okay. That's a problem. Food is on forks and people are bringing the forks to their mouths but the food never goes into their mouths. They lower their hands and the motion repeats itself. Like being stuck on a continuous loop.

'Okay, no. No, they're not eating.' Clara confirms and abruptly feels on edge. Like it's time to get the hell out of here.

'Another thing they're not doing.' The Doctor reaches over to Rose and yanks a hair off of her head and she scowls. Clara holds her breath as the Doctor holds the blonde strand in his fingers.

'What?' Clara breathes and the Doctor drops the hair to the ground, it sinks as though it has rocks attached to it. What does that mean?

'Breathing.' The Doctor finishes and Clara straightens up and swallows a hard lump in her throat. Okay, really uncomfortable now.

'What do we do?' Clara whispers and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. It makes her more nervous the way Rose is constantly surveying the room. She can tell that Rose is attempting to plan their escape while the Doctor remains neutral. As he always does.

'What, you don't want to eat, do you?' The Doctor wonders and Rose turns to him with an apathetic look on her face. Clara is already shaking her head before he finishes his sentence.

'I kinda am still hungry.' Rose sighs and Clara gapes at her.

'What that apple wasn't enough?' The Doctor muses and Rose shakes her head and folds her arms. How can they think about food in a place that reeks to high heaven and where the people still don't seem to be alive but rather going through the motions of life to seem or to appear to be normal.

'How can you think about food? I've slightly lost my appetite.' Clara directs her question at Rose who shrugs and looks to the food at the closest table.

'I don't know, I haven't eaten much in awhile. I don't remember the last time I sat down to eat.' Rose replies honestly and Clara looks away, embarrassed for having chided her the way she did. She forgets Rose has been tailing the Doctor to keep him safe, which means she hasn't looked after herself in god knows how long.

'How long before they notice that we're not like them?' Clara attempts to push past her embarrassment about her comment to Rose and also to get their rather serious situation the focal point of conversation again.

'Not long.' The Doctor answers and glances to Rose hoping she's thought of some covert way to get them out.

Clara rests her head in her hand and blinks. 'Anything we can do?'

'How long can you hold your breath?' The Doctor glances to Rose and then to Clara. Rose absently shrugs.

'Long enough.'

Clara shifts in the booth and swallows. 'We could just casually stroll out of here, like we've changed our minds.'

'Happens all the time.' The Doctor agrees and Rose smiles.

'Much better than what I was going to suggest.' Rose answers and the Doctor nudges her as he gets ready to stand.

'I can guess what.' He tells her quietly and Rose shakes her head with a small smirk.

Rose, Clara and the Doctor stand together and Rose elects to go first, just in case a path needs to be cleared the closer they get to the front door. What they didn't expect to happen is that the moment they stand every single person in the restaurant now stands with them. Clara inhales quickly and widens her eyes. Rose instinctively grabs the Doctor's hand and he turns to her surprised while she lets go of his hand just ask fast as she'd grabbed it.

'Okay, just wait a second. I want to try something.' Rose instructs and she shuffles out of the booth and stands. While the patrons do nothing, not even acknowledging them until Rose takes a step towards the front door. The patrons move towards her and the Doctor nearly reaches for her to keep her safe.

While Rose side steps out of the way again the patrons move towards her in the same direction. Well that confirms it. If they attempt to leave then they are going to be met with trouble. She can't possibly take on all of them, even if she was on point with all her senses, punches and kicks. Besides, she doesn't want to hurt them…but something tells her that they are not entirely…normal. Alive or not. Mechanical in movements. Are they robots?

'You know, Rose, we've decided that we're going to take another look at the menu.' Clara suggests and Rose nods her head deeply, watching the patrons continue to stare into nothing – with their dead like eyes. No light behind them. They are so lifelike. She mechanically sits herself next to the Doctor who is staring at her and together they nod their head. Once the three of them sit, so do the patrons.

'I think we've walked into a trap.' Rose informs them and pretends to bury her nose in the menu. Clara is staring deeply at hers but nothing is being absorbed by her mind. The specials staring her in the face are nothing but a collection of letters and words.

'What are they?' Clara questions, dropping her voice and Rose peers over the top of her menu to study the patrons and their benign movements. Forks are lifted to their mouths but nothing is on them. The forks are lowered and the motion repeats itself.

'I don't know,' The Doctor informs her and Clara closes her eyes and sighs. Not the time to mention that she feels as though her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. 'But don't worry, because that's not the question. The question is what is this restaurant?'

Clara glances between the Doctor and Rose as they stare at one another and have their private conversation. 'Okay, Doctor. What is this restaurant?'

'I don't know.' He replies and Clara sighs out her annoyance.

'Heads up.' Rose informs them and Clara and the Doctor join Rose in looking up at the new person to their table. A waiter.

The waiter also has a banal look on his face, dead eyes too and yet it is somehow a deep and soul searching gaze he seems to have. Also rather unnerving. He says nothing to them but rather continues to study them. Almost as though he's sizing them up for harvesting. Rose inadvertently shivers from her grimly morbid thoughts.

'Er…no sausages? Do you…and there's no pictures, either. Do you have a children's menu?'

'Doctor…' Rose bats him in the arm and the waiter mechanically reaches down for something and Rose struggles to hold herself in place. Could be a weapon. Could be anything. And yet she doesn't feel comforted by the thought of it being only a pen.

When the waiter's hand reappears he has a wand like device clasped in his fist. Rose relaxes but only slightly. He aims it at the Doctor and it takes everything in her not to jump up and bat it away. This could tell them more about what exactly is going on in this place.

'Any specials?' The Doctor wonders and a small beep from the device makes Rose pay attention that much harder, since the Doctor is absorbed in the menu and Clara is watching him with a careful eye, Rose feels the need to be the observant one.

'Liver.' The waiter replies with a monotone. He…can't possibly be alive.

'I don't like liver.' The Doctor tells him dismissively and goes back to studying the menu.

'Spleen. Brain stem. Eyes.'

Clara pales a bit and glances up to the waiter once he has finished. 'Mm. Is there a lot of demand for those?'

'I don't think that's what's on the menu. I think we're on the menu.' The Doctor explains and Clara pales a shade lighter and Rose pushes the menu towards the waiter.

The waiter holds the wand up to Clara and scans her as well. 'Lungs. Spleen.'

'Okay, so have we walked into an organ harvester's nest?' Rose wonders and feels the waiter staring at her while he scans her as well. The wand dings.

'Kidneys. Heart.' The waiter declares and Rose folds her arms. The whole idea of this place is becoming more and more unsettling. Especially since she can't seem to figure out what the end game is. Harvesting organs. For what purpose? At least she knows why the dinosaur was targeted.

'Huh. Thanks,' Rose retorts and the Doctor glances over to Rose who is shaking her head. 'Oh no, don't do it.'

'Oh yes,' The Doctor nods his head and turns his gaze back to the waiter. 'Excuse me.' The Doctor reaches up to the waiter's face, who – just as Rose suspected – doesn't offer a fight, merely stands there motionless while the Doctor rips off the face to reveal a pilot light burning underneath.

Clara widens her eyes and shifts closer towards the Doctor. 'Okay. Robot in a mask.'

Rose watches the Doctor handling the face and feels something icy drop into her stomach as the Doctor studies it. 'I don't think that's a mask. Oh, my god.'

'Yeah, it's very convincing.' Clara agrees and frowns when the Doctor presses the mask against Clara's face and leaves it there. She glares at him while she peels it off.

'It's a face.' The Doctor informs her and Clara nods her head absently. Honestly she doesn't need him to repeat Rose's words to her. She heard Rose the first time.

'Yes, I heard…' Clara widens her eyes and drops the face to the table in shocked horror. 'Oh!' She begins furiously wiping her hands on her dress and her hands shake when she places them on the table again. That at some point had been someone's flesh. Someone's actual face.

'Yes.' The waiter abruptly tells them and Rose frowns.

'I'm sorry, yes to what?' She inquires and the waiter turns to her and watches for several seconds before answering her question.

'Yes, we have a children's menu.'

Metal restraints abruptly come out of nowhere and secure themselves around everyone's upper arms and chest. Rose attempts to pry them off as best she can before another set appear and secure themselves around everyone's waist and lower arms. She doesn't care that she's struggling harder than the others to free herself from the restraints. No one is going to harvest her organs, nope. Not going to happen.

However as the booth rattles lightly, Rose pauses and frowns. The Doctor and Clara also stop their struggles to listen. Slowly the booth begins to be lowered down a shaft and the only light to be seen is the small sliver from the restaurant where the waiting is peering down. He grows smaller and smaller until there is nothing around them but the unsettling darkness. The Doctor looks over to Rose and Clara and smiles a bit.

'Well. You've got to admire their efficiency.' The Doctor informs them and Rose turns to him and shakes her head at him.

'Not the time nor the place.'

'Yeah, do you mind if I don't.' Clara adds and attempts to turn over her shoulder to see whereabouts they might be heading to. But there is nothing but darkness all around them. It's almost oppressive. Unnerving. She really would rather prefer to keep her organs with her.

They are jostled in their confines as the booth comes to a noisy rest in an open room of some ship that has gone unused for a very long time. Decades or longer judging by the rust that has been accumulating. Rose studies the room looking for anything that stands out – more so than normal. She spots it and nudges the Doctor with her foot and his gaze turns to her and then to a man sitting in the middle of the room, not moving or acknowledged their arrival. Maybe he hasn't heard them arrive as his back is towards them but it'd be rather hard not to. The ride down this shaft was loud and announcing. Visitors were coming. Visitors have arrived. Rose frowns when she notices the alcove above them. There are figures standing there as well. But they do not move either. Silent and eerie.

'Hello? Hello, are you the manager? I demand to speak to the manager.' The Doctor calls and his voice echoes around them however nothing happens. There is no reply. Rose nudges him once more with her foot and flings him a serious glare. He shrugs.

'Would you stop inviting trouble to us while we're incapacitated?' Rose chides and the Doctor shrugs. Clara wiggles against the restraints and sighs when nothing comes of it.

'This is not a real restaurant, is it?' She wonders and looks around the vastness of the room they're in. How do they get out of here? Is that shaft the only way back up? It must function as an elevator of some kind. Wait, she's jumping ahead. They need to figure out how to get out of this booth first.

'To be rather blunt, Clara, I think this is actually the heart of the organ harvester's operations.' Rose explains and Clara feels the colour drain from her face and she swallows as her eyes dart from place to place. Doesn't really seem…sterile.

'Like Sweeny Todd without the pies.' The Doctor adds and Clara flings him an unimpressed look. Like she needed that visual. A place the wary diner comes to eat and doesn't come back out. Delightful.

'So, what are we in right now?' Clara questions and the Doctor scans the room carefully. A ship. Old and decayed, buried. Oh, that's his inside voice. He should switch to external audio. Especially since Clara is waiting for her answer.

'Factually, an ancient spaceship, probably buried for centuries, functionally…a larder.' The Doctor surmises and Rose looks around the room for the third time. Nothing's changed. That's good…she supposes. She still wants out, though. Ugh, to her this is like a long list of inconveniences that are just piled on top of one another.

'So why hasn't anyone come for us.' Clara realises the uneasiness of her own words and hopes that her question won't be answered by the arrival of some organ harvester. Nothing happens. She sighs in relief.

'We're alive.' The Doctor answers plainly and again there isn't anything comforting about his words when he addresses her inquiry.

'We're alive in a larder.' Clara repeats and wiggles around in the constraints. Nothing helps. They are secured tightly. Damn.

'Exactly. It's cheaper than freezing us.' The Doctor replies and Rose flings him a rather disgusted look. However true his assessment and when Rose is about to scold him, she notices that he leans forward and the sonic screwdriver is visibly peeking out from under the coat. Finally. Best news she's heard all day.

Clara observes what the two of them are staring at and when she sees the sonic, a grin becomes plastered on her face. She beams. 'Yeah. All right!'

'Clara, are you ready?' The Doctor wonders and Rose feels her heart rate quicken. She's on the end of this table. But she has no doubt Clara will be able to grab the sonic.

Clara nods her head. 'Go for it.'

'Don't let it roll away.' The Doctor explains and Clara nods her head absently.

'No.'

'We've only got one shot at this.' The Doctor adds and Rose holds her breath as Clara readies herself but she also can't help but add a little jab at the Doctor in the process. It amuses Rose greatly.

'Next time, make one that doesn't roll.'

'Go!' The Doctor shakes the sonic loose from the coat and it tumbles to the floor with an audible bang. Clara throws her feet forward and attempts to catch it so it won't roll away from them. It comes to a gentle rest and Clara strains to have her foot make contact with the sonic. Rose exhales slowly forgetting to breath. Tense moments.

'Come on…' Clara mutters and continues to stretch her foot out as much as possible. She bites her lip and nearly makes contact with it.

'Got it?' The Doctor twists around to see her feet since he can't see the sonic. Why is this taking so long?

'I can only just about reach.' Clara replies and the Doctor smiles to himself. Because in situations like this…there was usually only one person who could help them out for these types of jams. Because she was nothing but leg. He can remember her…her red tresses and smile. Amy.

'Oh, it's at times like this…I miss Amy.' The Doctor says softly. Rose catches it and feels the slight sting of jealousy. He remembers Amy and those long legs of hers…their friendship and everything…but he can't remember her name. Instead he calls her the name of a man who caused so much friction between them because _he_ let it get to him.

'Who?' Clara wonders, interrupting her thoughts and Rose turns away, silently struggling against her own restraints, something to do to work off the anger and defeat. He may never remember her. What's she gonna do then, leave? Cross that bridge when she gets to it. One problem at a time.

Clara grins as she secures the sonic between her feet and shimmies it towards her a bit more before tightening her grasp as best she can. 'Ready?' Clara questions and slips her right toe under the sonic and glances up to the Doctor.

'Don't miss!' The Doctor instructs and Rose feels as though her heart will beat right out of her chest. Clara nods her head and carefully counts down the seconds in her mind.

When she mentally reaches zero she kick flips the sonic into the air and it manages to land squarely in the Doctor's lap. Maybe a little too perfectly because Rose widens her eyes as it lands in a rather sensitive spot in his lap. She winces for him and the Doctor leans forward a bit from the pain. He groans a bit and Clara feels terrible.

'I'm sorry! Did I…hit something?' She wonders cautiously and the Doctor straightens up and flashes her a bit of a pained glare. She shrugs innocently in response.

'Oh, the symbolism!' He replies and picks up the sonic with his fingers, using it on the restraints and they pop off instantly. Rose leaps to her feet and meanders around the room, stretching but also to go up to their friend who is sitting in a stasis like state.

Clara gets to her feet and rubs her arms where the restraints dug into her. She motions to the sonic as the Doctor pockets it. 'You should make that thing voice activated,' Clara informs him and he avoids her look. Clara feels her mouth drop. How does he manage to conveniently forget these things? 'Oh, for god sake, it is, isn't it?'

The Doctor rubs his own arms and avoids Clara's glare by focusing on the man Charlie's in front of. 'I don't want to talk about it.' He states sourly and Clara brushes his comment off.

She too begins to wander around the larder, checking things out when her eyes reach the second level above them and to the figures that are merely poised there. Like wax figures. One of them is dressed like a Mandarin. Are all those people…dead?

'Doctor?' Clara calls to him but feels the need to keep her eye on the Mandarin. She's fearful that should her eyes leave that…thing will disappear. She waits until the Doctor is by her side and that she's certain he's looking at it too before her eyes leave it.

'Dormant.' He tells her and she feels relieved. But that was a rather fast assumption based on five seconds of observation. She now wants the proof that there's nothing to be fearful of.

'How do you know?'

'I don't. I'm just hoping.' He answers and they look around cautiously. He spots Rose over by the man sitting in the chair and he watches her studying the man.

'So…is it these guys that killed the dinosaur?' Clara wonders and the Doctor shrugs at her question.

'Well, if they're harvesting organs, a dinosaur would have some great stuff.' He replies and Clara gets a chill all of a sudden. What is this place? Why are they harvesting organs for the black-market, how is that even a thing?

Rose straightens up. This man doesn't tell her much. Sadly. 'I believe this man here is in a form of stasis. He's plugged in to something. Charging…'

The Doctor hurries over to Rose and Clara follows, still keeping her eyes moving on everything. He pauses when he stands beside Rose and she points to the wire he's connected to. 'Captain, my captain.'

Clara joins them and tilts her head at the half faced man. Rose lowers her own to his hands. 'So he truly can't see us?'

'No he's recharging. He's asleep,' The Doctor tests his theory by waving his hand and fingers in front of the man's face. There is no reaction. 'Doesn't even know we're here.' He replies confidently and somehow Clara doesn't feel relieved.

'Are you sure?'

The Doctor shrugs. 'Sure, not sure – one or the other.'

Clara leans in to observe the man's half of a face. 'Okay, so half man, half robot. A cyborg, yeah?'

'Doctor…?' Rose tugs on his coat sleeve and he turns to her.

'What?'

Rose points to the man's hands and begins to feel a little sick. 'Look. His hands.'

The Doctor lowers his gaze and widens his eyes. 'Oh.'

Clara's look darts between the two and she frowns. 'Oh?'

'Well, now we know why we're in an organ harvester's den.' Rose replies and feels the need to take a step back from this man just in case the charging is complete and he suddenly springs to life. There goes her heart rate again. Clara is looking at the man but sees nothing but a robot like cyborg. What are they seeing?

'What? What is it?' Clara leans from side to side hoping to spot the difference. But he just looks…well, unusual yes, but normal unusual. If that makes sense.

'Look at the hands.' The Doctor instructs and points to them. Clara does so but frowns. Okay. Hands. He's got two of them. What's the big deal?

'What about them?' Clara looks up to the Doctor who is still pointing at them.

'Look at them.' He tells her again and Clara crosses her arms feeling rather irritated at the moment. They look like hands. That's all.

'I'm looking.' Clara insists and she spends seconds studying the hands. She is creeped out when the Doctor picks up the man's hands in his own and holds them in front of her. The shock and disgust is evident on Clara's face.

'They don't match. These hands don't belong to the same body.' The Doctor explains and Clara widens her eyes and takes a step back. That scares her. And she looks over to Rose who has been rather quiet for the most part. She is scanning the robot carefully.

'I don't understand.' Clara tells him and the Doctor stands beside Rose, as they stare at the clockwork gears dormant in his head. This entire ordeal seems rather familiar, but she dare not voice her thoughts just in case. Rose points to the gears and the Doctor nods his head at her before his gaze returns to Clara.

'I don't blame you. See, this…this is not your normal cyborg. This isn't a man turning himself into a robot. This is a robot turning himself…into a man, piece by piece.' The Doctor explains and Rose shivers. She points up above their heads.

'That's what the restaurant's for.' Clara surmises and both the Doctor and Rose nod their heads.  
'This is unsettling. The need for a constant supply of organs. Because, well, organs would rot if they're not kept alive. If the host…isn't alive.' Rose bites the corner of her lip and she looks to the ceiling. Something is telling her that it's time to go.

'Charlie's right. You can tan skin, but look,' The Doctor points to some of the metal work and Rose and Clara lean their heads in to study what he's pointing at. 'Some of that metalwork looks Roman. Wonder how long it's been around, how much of the original is even left. The eyeballs look very fresh, though.'

Suddenly the three of the gasp and jump back as the man with only half a face begins to stir. He places his hands on the arm of the chair and the clockwork gears spring to life. Clara fishes around for something to grab and secures a tight grasp on the Doctor's coat. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she exhales slowly.

'Okay, it's time to go.' Rose decides however they remain stationary just in case their sudden movements may hasten his awakening.

'Is it awake?' Clara whispers and Rose doesn't want to tempt fate by leaning in for a closer look.

'It's waking up…I think.' The Doctor confirms and Rose motions for them to go ahead of her while she brings up the rear. They quietly move around her and Rose takes a few steps backward to ensure the man with half a face doesn't follow them.

They continue to slowly creepy back towards the shaft where the booth was lowered when Clara notices that the Doctor has paused and looks up to the ceiling of the ship as though he's just remembered something, like a light bulb has gone off. He stops and begins to turn around to head back to the man with only half a face when Clara reaches back to grab onto the Doctor's hand. Rose hasn't noticed because she's still making sure that the…robot man is still in a state of semi consciousness.

'Doctor!' Clara hisses and it causes Rose to whip around and stare with wide eyes at the Doctor walks by her and points to the cyborg.

'I've seen this before. I'm missing something!' The Doctor insists and Rose frowns as she watches him continuing to point. He's seen this? How could he have seen this? He doesn't even remember her name. But he remembers clockwork like cyborgs sitting in an abandoned ship, buried decades or centuries while they periodically show themselves to the world…

Rose widens her eyes. They _have_ seen this before. She was there. Ships. Clockwork like cybrogs. Robots. These ones are slightly more sophisticated than the last round. She still feels the jealousy of that interaction. But why regress? No, not regress. Advance. Instead of one woman…now the entire city of London is game.

'You're right. We _have_ seen this before.'

The Doctor turns to her with a surprised look and he rushes to her. 'We have? You and I?'

'You and I, yes. Shall I find you a fireplace, a horse and perhaps a French royal mistress?' Rose folds her arms and the Doctor takes a step back seeing that she is immensely annoyed for some reason. A fireplace? Why would he want a fireplace? Oh, that was the key to get there. How'd he forget? How'd he forget Charlie's rage with him?

'No…I, I was just going to point out that the head is brand new. And, that's why…I was remembering things. But I remember how cross you were with me.' The Doctor admits and Rose smirks while arching her eyebrow.

'I really was. And I remember you not really caring. You always do what you want anyway…even if it means that you don't get to see how much you hurt those around you.' Rose counters and the Doctor looks away, fully remembering that tiff. It also reinforces the belief in his mind that they are so much closer to one another than he perceives them to be. Question is: why is she doing that? Who is she trying to protect?

'I…right. Time to go.' He deflects, as usual, and rushes past her but reaches back and grabs onto her arm, taking her with him and she nearly loses her balance. She isn't sure which of them one that fight, or if it was even a fight or what. This is entirely daunting to her.

They rush right by Clara who is transfixed by the cyborg who is still unplugging himself from the machines. She wonders what they are designed for. She wonders what that cybrog is designed for and what its purpose is. And why all of a sudden is it causing London so much grief? Or is it just are they finally starting to pay attention to it? There are other questions to answer but she figures now it not the time for explanations.

She vaguely hears the shuffling and light hisses from Rose and the Doctor, arguing again most likely, but when she hears her name being called she turns over to see Rose staring at her through the door's port window with wide eyes and a scared look on her face. Clara doesn't realise it right away until she watches Rose turn to who she presumes is the Doctor and begins pointing at the window with vigour and after she widens her eyes and turns back to Clara. Sensing that she may have just become trapped in the room with a cyborg that may be dangerous. Or not. But with her experience, the answer is probably yes. So she quietly tries to draw as much attention as she can away from herself and makes a dash for the door. Rose and the Doctor put their heads together to stare at one another. Clara frowns.

'Doctor!' She whispers angrily and motions to the door and Rose gives him a gentle shove to get him to move quicker.

Clara's heart pounds in her chest as she watches the door move at an agonising slow pace, higher and higher until it just…stops. A little bit. It isn't even enough for her to slide under or anything. But she can hear Rose's frantic pleas. It causes Clara just slip into a panic mode just a little bit quicker.

'Hurry, Doctor, lift the door higher so Clara can get out.' Rose instructs and the Doctor watches with a candid fascination as the cyborg unplugs himself from the machines and slowly begins to come back to life.

'Sorry, she was too slow. There's no point in them catching all three of us.' The Doctor decides and Rose feels her jaw drop. Clara widens her eyes and turns over her shoulder to where the cyborg lifts his left hand and flex it. She turns back to Rose and the Doctor with wide eyes.

'It's fine, never mind then. Just give me the screwdriver.' Clara demands and the Doctor looks at it before looking to Clara and holds it closer, shaking his head at her. Rose throws the back of her hand into his arm and glares at him.

'I might need it.' The Doctor replies seriously and he uses the sonic to close the door the remainder of the way. Clara watches him with wide eyes and Rose is about to bang her fist on the door before deciding otherwise. It may just alert that monster out there.

Clara and the Doctor continue to lock angry glares at one another before the Doctor turns and leaves, she watches him walk away down the corridor. The sting of betrayal hurts immensely and Clara is stunned by his actions. However Rose appears through the port window and presses her hand on the glass. Clara matches her actions.

'Don't worry, Clara. I will get you out. No matter what. Just be calm. Don't panic. You panic and mistakes are made. So calm down. Take a deep breath in…' Rose smiles at her before she turns on her heel and dashes down the hall, ready to give the Doctor a piece of her mind. Plan or not it's not right that one of them is left behind. That's not the way they do things around here.

'Rose? Doctor? Oh!' Clara hides her gasp as she watches the cyborg slowly come around to the booth and she presses herself into the indentation by the door in a vain attempt to hide. She can hear her heart pounding in her ears. Her heart racing. Clara exhales slowly, quietly so as not to draw attention to herself. The cyborg is up and moving around. She doesn't know what sets it off, how it knows if there are people around, things like that. So she slowly waits for an opportune moment to get out of her situation. And plot for what she'll say to the Doctor the moment she gets him within yelling distance. She believes Rose when she says she'll find her a way out, but the Doctor…she doesn't get why he'd just…leave her like that. It hurts her the longer she tries to figure it out. Why betray her like that? What does he gain from it other than losing her trust in him? She knows that Rose will truly give him a piece of her mind. So it makes her feel a little bit better.

Clara widens her eyes when she notices that the cyborg has turned around and now has his back to her. She bites the corner of her lip and slowly tiptoes sideways from her hiding spot to another door she spots across the room. Her escape attempt is thwarted when she finds herself unable to open the door and she silently curses. Of course, what luck. She spots the alcove and hurries up as fast as she can while trying not to draw attention to herself to take refuge there. She begins exhaling quickly, her heart fluttering in her chest when she feels a presence looming over her. It sets her on edge and when she lifts her gaze she sees the Chinese robot she spotted earlier studying her with an eager enthusiasm. What does she do? She's going to get caught! She directs her gaze forward and desperately thinks of what she can do to help herself in this situation. Strangely she remembers something Rose said earlier that makes her frown.

' _Take a deep breath.'_

Why didn't she finish it with, 'and then exhale slowly.' Why say it like that? What's she implying? And then the Doctor's words echo in her mind. An extension of what Rose had been implying when she and him had been bantering back and forth earlier in the restaurant.

' _Something else they're not doing. Breathing. How long can you hold your breath?'_

' _Long enough.'_

Clara watches in fear at the cyborg striding towards her. Danger if he catches her. Hopefully she's right. He's mere feet from her now. Clara inhales deeply and holds her breath. The cyborg stops and tilts his head, staring at her directly in the eye. Clara has her eyes wide open and her brow furrows. This is harder than she thought it would be. She wants to breathe so badly. However in a stroke of luck, the cyborg turns around and walks away from her. But she can't risk it. She's surrounded on all sides. She breathes and they'll know she isn't like one of them. Then she's in real trouble. But it hurts, she's fighting her natural instinct to breathe, she craves the air. She tries not to think about it, she focuses on everything in the room to stop thinking about how desperately she needs to breathe. What if she faints? That's a dead giveaway. The Chinese robot moves away and a solitary tear falls from Clara's eye as she jerkily follows the robot hoping to blend in further as she looks for a way out. As the Chinese robot moves towards a door, it opens and she makes a small dash for it, keeping her movements erratic to show that she is a part of them while she waits for the Doctor's miraculous plan.

* * *

Rose slips her hair into a ponytail, sweeping her hair off the back of her neck felt good, she's hot and can feel their perspiration running down her temple. When the Doctor has carefully peeled off the mask, he tosses it over to her. She winces as she catches it and feels a chill run through her. This idea seems extremely risky to her. She doesn't like that Clara has been left behind like that. It makes her worry something could happen. Especially since they don't even know anything about what that cyborg wants. She tries to keep the faith but she just worries. She wishes it were she back in that room, at least she'd know Clara was safe with the Doctor. She could handle herself. Besides, he had told her he surmises that Clara didn't come into the restaurant alone. And she agreed. She told him that all Clara needed to do was get word to her backup squad and they'd be there to rescue her. Which is good. More back up for them. Question is…are they going to have to summon them or can they rely on their wits alone to get them out of this situation.

The Doctor glances over to Charlie as she grimaces holding the face in her hands. She hasn't said anything to him since their disagreement over how he handled the situation regarding Clara and how she vehemently disagreed with him. What else is new?

'Are you not going to speak to me for the rest of this misadventure?' He wonders and Rose plants her fist on her hip and looks over to him, pausing in his actions of peeling off another face for himself. They pause and hold their breaths as a robot walks down the end of the corridor. Thankfully it doesn't spot them. They exhale quietly. But in order to keep the heat off of them, they say all of their sentences without taking a breath; there are robots that are close, in the next corridor over that could hear them.

'I just wish you would keep me informed of your plans so that I can react better. I don't like doing things on the fly.' Rose replies and the Doctor walks towards her and when they stand in front of one another, Rose feels a small painful stab at her heart. He looks at her. But he looks through her.

'I had a more honest reaction out of you and Clara. Had I been more forthcoming, I might not have had the appropriate response. Arousing suspicion.' The Doctor explains and Rose scoffs while rolling her eyes.

'Doesn't matter, we've left Clara alone and unarmed.'

'If she was paying attention to what we said she will be fine.'

'I worry for her.'

'Don't. The adrenaline would have kicked in by now. She's in survivor mode. She is more adept to bargaining for her life and extracting information. Self-preservation. She'll be okay.' The Doctor tells her and he places his hand on her arm and Rose relents, feeling the tug within her to continue to get closer to him. But it probably isn't right. So she doesn't.

'Promise me she will.' Rose begs and surprising her, the Doctor moves his hand from her arm, to her cheek. Now it's her turn to freeze with fear and confusion. He gives her a curt nod and watches her bite her lip. She does that. And next she'll avoid his look. Which she does. He _knows_ her.

'She will. She's a control freak. And we all know what happens when someone tries to have power over a control freak.'

Rose begins to laugh lightly and quietly. 'Right. Yeah. Okay. Thanks…'

She widens her eyes when he places a quick kiss on her cheek. He pulls away embarrassed and she has wide eyes from the shock of what he's just done. That's a hell of a sign. She can feel the colour deepen on her cheeks and she opens her mouth to say something when the Doctor beats her to it and takes a step back, beginning to hammer out apologies. Rose reaches for the front of his shirt with wide eyes and pulls him toward her, pressing her lips to his in a fluid motion. He rests his hands on her shoulders. Whether it's because he's afraid to push her off or to keep her where she is…she doesn't know. But she decides to end it. God only knows what this means nor what consequences she'll reap from this. Then again…she may have just helped him with his memory problem.

Rose pulls away first and when she opens her eyes she sees the Doctor staring at her with a stunned expression on his face. She really needs to start listening to that gut instinct she has. It always is right and she never believes it. She takes a step back to put distance between them. What a colossal mistake she's made. Terrible. What's wrong with her? She looks to her feet.

'I'm sorry. I don't know…what came over me…' Rose admits and the Doctor avoids her look as well. There had been so much love in that brief kiss. She's so special to him, isn't she? So why does his memories of her seem so…incoherent? He can remember nearly everything about Clara…but with Charlie…it's different. He's not even sure that's her real name.

'I…didn't mind,' The Doctor discloses casually and Rose lifts her gaze to meet his. She gives him a crooked, sheepish smile. 'I just…you're just…there. In my mind. I can see you, see us, see what we've done together. What we haven't. But there's holes. There are pieces missing. And…I know, know Charlie isn't your real name but I can't remember it and I don't know why I call you by that name…'

Rose reaches her hand out and the Doctor takes a firm grasp of it. She doesn't want to tell him why he calls her Charlie, let him remember on his own if he must. However she does want to tell him that it'll be okay. He'll remember her in time. 'You know my name…it's-…'

The Doctor silences her by pressing his finger to his lips and Rose freezes. 'Listen. They're coming. Positions.'

They break a part and hide in alcoves the next corridor over, putting on the masks that they had secured, even though Rose winces as it touches her face and she closes her eyes at the morbid thoughts running through her mind. Rose waits until the last possible second to hold her breath, listening as the footsteps draw closer, Clara's heels echoing around them. In spite of this she nearly loses it when she sees Clara stumble almost into their corridor. She's holding her breath and Rose can see her eyes darting to the robots that line both sides of the halls. She nearly runs to the adjoining corridor to catch a break. But no such luck. Clara's face is covered with a thick layer of perspiration and her eyes are constantly water, tears streaming down her face. Rose wishes she could give Clara a sign, not to worry because they're here with her.

But Rose grows more concerned when Clara begins to stumble, her movements laboured. She drags her feet and her eyes roll to the back of her head several times. She's going to faint. Rose watches Clara throw her hand out to feel around for a wall or something sturdy so she can steady herself but of course she finds nothing. She can't take much more of this. Rose observes Clara pausing in her step, biting her lip to keep the air out but she can do no more. She gasps for breath, inhaling sharply as she slides to the floor in a dead faint.

'Bring her.' The cyborg commands and Rose and the Doctor spring from their spots and they secure a grasp under her arms and haul her to a standing position and drag her back into the main part of the ship. The cyborg is now sitting in his chair once again and Rose can feel herself reaching her own breaking point.

The cyborg dismisses them once they leave Clara just by his feet and together they slink off to a different part of the ship's main room, an alcove not far from Clara. They exchange looks and continue to wait until Clara comes out of her faint. Rose slowly exhales blowing out the breath as quietly as she can and inhaling even more quietly. The cyborg does turn to her direction but doesn't come to her. Thankfully.

Rose and the Doctor watch Clara slowly stir and sit up on her hip, looking around confused until she notices the cyborg in his chair and she gasps, shuffling back as fast as she can before getting to her feet. She looks around, turning in a circle for help, but she doesn't see any and Rose can tell she's going to rely on her nerves and wit to help stall for time.

'Where are the others? There were two more. Where are they? Where are the others? You will tell us…or you will be destroyed.' The cyborg demands and Rose watches Clara ball her fists and take a step forward.

'What did you say?' Clara demands and the cyborg leans forward.

'You will tell us.' He repeats and Clara folds her arms defiantly.

'Yeah, I know, or what?'

'You will die.' The cyborg tells her simply and Clara smirks at him, shaking her head deeply. She's been put to the test before, on her very first day teaching. Those kids were unruly, disruptive and taunted her. They pushed her past her breaking point, nearly brought her to tears but she survived her first day. And then her second one. She can do anything she sets her mind to. And she will survive this.

'Go on, then. Do it. I'm not going to answer any of your questions, so you have to do it. You have to kill me. Threats don't work unless you deliver.' Clara retorts and holds her arms out to the sides of her. Unsurprisingly, the cyborg does nothing at all to her but stare at her with this rather vacant glazed look in his eyes.

'You will tell us where the other two are.' The cyborg commands again and Clara shakes her head.

'Nope.'

'You will be destroyed.' The cyborg declares and Clara smirks at him. Rose is immensely impressed by how Clara's managing to stall for time. The Doctor had been right, the adrenaline has kicked in and now she's in full survivor mode. She's incredibly brilliant. Rose exhales slowly through her mouth, being as silent as she can and since the cyborg is so wrapped up in Clara, he fails to notice.

'Destroy me, then. And if you don't, then…I'm not going to believe a single threat you make from now on,' Clara folds her hands in front of her and studies the room, trying to see if she can see something that sticks out to her, so show her that Rose or the Doctor are nearby. But nothing. Everything is the same. Fine, she'll just stall for more time. 'Of course, if I'm dead, then…I can't tell you where the other two went, then…you need to keep this place down here a secret, don't you? Never start with your final solution. You've got nowhere to go but backwards.'

'Humans feel pain.' The cyborg reminds Clara and she finds herself holding back her laugh of bitter irony. Of course they do. And she doesn't want to feel pain but she needs to keep this…half man like cyborg from believing he has her scared. She presses onward.

Clara points at the cyborg, however he remains stoic. 'Bigger threat to smaller threat – see what I mean? Backwards.'

'The information can be extracted by means of your suffering.'

Clara scoffs and folds her arms. She shakes her head. His tune is getting old very quickly. And she'll simply continue to call his bluff, while being honest with him and herself. Yeah, she's bloody terrified. 'Are you trying to scare me? Well, cause I'm already bloody terrified of dying…and I'll endure a lot of pain for a very long time before I give up the information that's keeping me alive. How long have you got?'

The cyborg stands and Clara almost takes a step back but holds her ground and glowers at the cyborg. 'Where are the others?'

'All you can offer me is my life – what you can't do is threaten it. You can negotiate,' Clara tells him and the cyborg takes a step forward and Clara backs up two steps. The cyborg removes his right hand and lifts it to where it grips his lapel. Clara holds out her hands to stop him. Her heart is racing and she feels tears starting to form. 'Okay, okay, okay! Okay, yes, yes, yes, I'm crying and it's just because I am very frightened of you. If you know anything about human beings, that means you…' Clara squares herself to the cyborg and points to him. 'You're in a lot of trouble.'

The cyborg reaches to attach a blowtorch to his arm and holds it out towards Clara. She widens her eyes and exhales slowly. 'We will not negotiate.'

'You don't have a choice. I tell you what, I'll answer your questions if you answer mine.' Clara proposes and Rose finds herself inwardly grinning. There it is. Clever girl.

'We will not answer questions.' The cyborg repeats and studies the blowtorch carefully. Clara watches the cyborg carefully and swallows a lump in her throat. You know a sign saying that the Doctor or Rose are close at hand would really be soothing to her nerves right about now.

'We'll take turns, I'll go first. Why did you kill the dinosaur?' Clara probes and the cyborg tilts his head at her for a brief moment before he takes another step towards her.

'We will not answer questions.'

'Why did you kill the dinosaur?' Clara repeats and she watches the ominous look in those dead eyes turn to rage. She braces herself.

'We will not answer questions!' He shouts and points the blowtorch at her. Clara jumps lightly at the force in his tone when he shouted at her. Hopefully what she does next will call his bluff.

'Then you might as well kill me, because I'm not talking again till you do.' Clara looks away and takes that moment to study the alcoves. Again nothing but similarity. She hates doing this on her own, without any indication the outcome will be good. Where are they? How long does it take? Out of the corner of her eye, Clara is surprised to see the cyborg lower the torch.

'Within the optic nerve of the dinosaur is material of use to our computer systems.' He explains and Clara inwardly beams. Yes. Here we go. Finally getting some answers out of him. But it certainly wasn't the answer she wanted.

'You burned a whole dinosaur for a spare part? No, no, hang on. You know what's in a dinosaur's optic nerve, which means you've seen them before.' Clara surmises and widens her eyes at her own realisation and deduction. This means that…whatever is on this ship has been here…maybe since the dawn of time.

'Where are the others?' The cyborg wonders and Clara frowns as she begins to piece together the mystery of this cyborg's origins. She points to him before drawing her hand back and biting her thumbnail in thought.

'How long have you been rebuilding yourselves? Look at the state of you! Is there any real you left? What's the point?' Okay so that last bit became rhetorical. But he'll answer her, she's certain of it.

'We will reach the Promised Land.' He answers and Clara frowns at him.

'The what? The Promised Land? What's that?'

'Where are the others?'

The Doctor signals Rose to move and they slowly descend from their hiding spots in the alcoves and silently make their way down to Clara who has backed up from the cyborg, trying to put some distance between them. Clara doesn't hear them and so when she comes to a stop they take up their spots just behind her and wait for the moment to reveal themselves to her. Rose notices that Clara's hands are shaking.

'I don't know. But I know where he will be…where he will always be. I know that between him and Rose…they'll always have my back. Because that's who they are,' Clara inhales and ignores her racing heart to reach her hands back behind her. 'I'm right, aren't I? Go on. Please, please, god, say I'm right.'

Rose and the Doctor grip her outstretched hands tightly and they yank Clara back where Rose envelops her in a hug and Clara exhales her nervousness and clings to her tightly. She turns around to see two of the same figures that dragged her down the hall and into this room reach their hands up and peel off the faces, exposing Rose's mischievous eyes and the Doctor's grin. Rose drops the facemask to the ground and Clara nearly jumps into her embrace. She clings to Rose tighter and is so relieved that she's safe she nearly jumps up and down.

'I told you, you'd always be safe with me.' Rose whispers and Clara smiles a bit, nodding.

'I believed you.'

The Doctor takes a step towards the cyborg and smiles. 'Hello, hello, rubbish robots from the dawn of time; thank you for all the gratuitous information. Five foot one and crying – you never stood a chance,' The Doctor slaps down the cyborg's torch hand and presses the sonic into the power source. Stop it! This is your power source, and feeble though it is, I can use it to blow this whole room if I see one thing that I don't like, and that includes karaoke and mime, so take no chances. See, Clara?' The Doctor turns around and tosses the face to her, which she catches and then makes a face at. 'That's how you disguise yourself as a Droid. Was it convincing enough? Did we do a good job?'

'Oh yes, so much so that I'm sorry I didn't have enough time to join in on the fun. You know, I was just abandoned.' Clara retorts and the Doctor shrugs a bit.

'Sorry. Well, no, actually I'm not, you're brilliant on adrenaline. And you were out of depth, sir,' The Doctor points to the cyborg who continues to stare blankly at him. 'Never try and control a control freak.'

'Doctor…' Rose sighs and presses her hand to her forehead while Clara balls her fists at her side.

'I am not a control freak!' She tells him furiously and throws down the face.

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Why are you here?' The cyborg questions and Rose arches her eyebrow as she moves forward ever so slightly. She stands next to the Doctor while they continue to study the cyborg's question.

'Why did you invite us? The message, in the paper…that was you, wasn't it?' The Doctor trails off and the cyborg tilts his head, staring at them with that depthless gaze. Oh, okay. Maybe not the man – half man – who invited them here? So embarrassing. The Doctor sighs. 'Oh. I hate being wrong in public. Everybody forget that happened,' He tells them and walks over to Clara with a smirk. 'Clara, say the word.'

Clara frowns. 'What word?'

Rose throws her fists up as the cyborg begins to advance on them. 'The word.'

The Doctor points to the ceiling. 'They never sent you in here without a word.'

Clara feels the heat creep into her cheeks and shakes her head. 'I don't want to say it.'

'On three!' Rose calls to them and the Doctor points to Rose.

'We've already guessed it.'

Clara inhales and nods her head at him. She presses her finger to her brooch and together the three of them shout in unison.

'Geronimo!'

From an opening in the ceiling, Vastra and Jenny descend from an aerial drop as they unroll with a silk sash. Rose whistles and Jenny winks at her once they land gracefully and unsheathe their weapons.

'That was a beautiful entrance! Teach me that!' Rose tells them and Jenny nods her head.

'Next time!'

'Remain still and lay down your weapons, in the name of the British Empire!' Vastra commands and everyone's heads shoot up to the opening as something heavy lets out a cry and falls to floor, they lower their gazes to find Strax pulling himself up from the floor having attempted to copy the exact same stunt, only to fail at executing it.

'Strax?' Rose calls and he brushes himself off with a huff. 'You okay?'

'Perfectly fine, lad.' He replies but Rose notices he winces a fair bit. She can't help but shake her head at him.

'I've told you before – take the stairs!' Jenny scolds and he chooses to her ignore her.

'Oh, look. The cavalry.' The Doctor smiles at Clara and Rose takes up her position by Vastra and Jenny. The three of them exchange a little look, sealing it with a nod.

The cyborg begins to advance towards them and Rose, Jenny and Vastra hold the line. 'I burned an ancient, beautiful creature for one inch of optic nerve. What do you think you can accomplish, little man?'

The Doctor shrugs absently. 'What do you? Vastra?'

Vastra blocks the cyborgs arm from extending further. 'The establishment upstairs has been disabled with maximum prejudice, and the authorities summoned.' She explains and Clara stares at Vastra as though she's spoken a foreign language. She turns up to the Doctor.

'Hang on, she called the police? Is it that easy? We never do that. Why don't we do that? We should start.' Clara decides and the Doctor takes a few steps until he is standing behind Vastra. He reaches over and squeezes Rose's shoulder. She looks back to him and smirks.

'You see? Destroy us if you will, they're still going to close your restaurant. That was going to sound better.' The Doctor replies and the cyborg continues to stare blankly at them before he lifts his hand and the other robots spring to life.

'Then we will destroy you.' The cyborg decides and Rose, Jenny and Vastra watch the other robots in the alcoves begin to step forward, blades have appeared in place of their arms. Rose widens her eyes. The doors to halls abruptly open and it allows for the others to begin pouring in.

Vastra pushes the cyborg back and away from them where he is flanked by the other robots. Together they all begin advancing towards them, Rose motions for the Doctor and Clara to back away – which they do while they continue to hold the line, creating a buffer for Clara and the Doctor to stay safe.

'Well, ladies? And Strax? Plan of action or everyone just pick a section and get to work?' Rose wonders and Jenny smiles.

'I'm okay taking a section.' Jenny replies and Vastra nods her head in agreement.

'As am I.'

'Well, let's see who takes the first swing, shall we?' Rose watches the robots over the cyborg's shoulders. They are merely waiting for his command to attack and she doesn't want to be caught off guard and slow to respond. She steadies her breathing and hopes not to get on the wrong end of those blades.

'Before you get to work, you three, I want to tell the half man something,' The Doctor interjects and moves to just standing behind Rose. 'You won't destroy us. You're logical. You have restraint. You kill to survive – you're not a murderer.'

Clara widens her eyes and stares at him before shifting her gaze back to the cyborg and then again to the Doctor. 'Doctor, what? No. This is a slaughterhouse.'

The Doctor turns to her and stares at her deeply. Clara doesn't like that look. It makes her uncomfortable. 'And how does that make it different from any other restaurant? You weren't a vegetarian last time I checked. This is over. Killing us won't change that. What would be the point?'

'To find the Promised Land.' The cyborg informs them and Rose drops her hands to her sides to stare at him.

'There it is. I hate to be the one to tell you this…but there is no promised land. Haven't you realised…? You've been here since the dawn of time. Maybe that was the promised land. What's happened since then? Progress. It's always progress.' Rose explains and the cyborg stares at her before tilting his head.

'You're millions of years old. If you didn't know…sorry we had to be the ones to tell you.' The Doctor adds and the cyborg remains silent. No one is sure if he is digesting the information or comprehends it at all. Silence begins to grow thicker and Rose finds herself holding her breath. Ironic, given the day she's had.

'I am in search of paradise.' The cyborg explains and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

'Yeah, well, me too. I'm not going to make it either.' He replies and the cyborg steps forward and backhands the Doctor who falls to the floor. Rose shouts at the cyborg but Jenny restrains her while Clara is on her knees ensuring that he's okay. The Doctor nods his head at her and Clara helps him up.

The cyborg walks over to the booth at the base of the shaft and lowers himself into it. Everyone watches with curiosity as the cyborg settles himself and turns over to the small crowd before announcing his plans.

'I will leave in this escape capsule. Destroy where necessary.' The cyborg explains and Vastra stares stunned.

'Escape capsule? This ship is millions of years old, it'll never fly.' She tells him seriously but her words are not heard by the cyborg who merely brushes off her concerns as though he's never heard them before.

'It has been repaired.' He informs them and everyone exchanges confused looks. It certainly doesn't seem to be repaired, judging by the interior of this ship.

'With what?' Vastra wonders and the cyborg turns to them with a deadpan expression on his face.

'You.'

'Defensive positions everyone.' Strax declares and the four of them surround the Doctor and Clara as the robots spring to life and begin to encircle them. The Doctor takes Rose's wrist in his hand and she turns over to him with surprise in her eyes. He smiles at her.

'Be careful.'

Rose gives him a small, crooked smile and shrugs. 'No. I won't make promises I don't know if I can keep.'

'Try to try,' The Doctor tells her and Rose nods her head at him. 'Good.'

'He's getting away.' Rose motions to the shaft casually and the Doctor looks over. The cyborg turns to her and then looks away. 'You friend is intelligent. He'll know better than to follow me.'

Rose snorts as the booth begins to head up the shaft. 'Yeah, well, joke's on you because he's not smart enough not to follow you!' She calls to the cyborg and then looks over to the Doctor, feeling guilty for what she just said. 'Sorry about that.'

'Your assessment is accurate enough. Well, me and my stupidity are off again.' The Doctor smiles at her and dashes off to the booth, side stepping those robots who try to stop him. He winks at her and grips onto a bar that is under the booth and rides up the shaft. She swallows and turns her attention back to the problem at hand.

Rose focuses on the robots surrounding them and stands back to back with everyone else. She looks over to Clara whose eyes are darting around the robots. It's okay to be scared; hell she always is, even now. She places her hand on Clara's shoulder and Clara shifts her gaze to Rose's.

'Ready?' Rose wonders and Clara gives her a curt nod.

'I sure am.'

'It is our intent to leave. If it is your intent to stop us, perhaps we should get down to business.' Vastra decides and Rose and Jenny get in to defensive positions while Clara sticks close by Rose just in case. She looks around the floor for anything she can use to help them, but doesn't see anything.

Rose takes a quick look up to the shaft and hopes that everything will work out. Though she knows deep that that's rarely the case. She goes back to heightened alert and waits to see who will strike first. The silence grows. What will happen if they become overwhelmed? Why is she thinking like that? Okay, why does this cyborg feel as though it is so important to find this land that she's certain doesn't exist. She then understands that this poor thing crashed here so long ago that it's looking for a way back home. And was surviving the only way it knew how. And of course taking a hell of a long way home. She's surprised that the cyborg never lost faith after millions of daunting years that it would be going back home. Hopefully they can help him, and hopefully it won't have an unhappy ending.

* * *

The cyborg watches the two men in crisp authoritative garb scurry from the restaurant after he ignited the torch. He waits and listens. Nothing else comes from it. No other humans burst through the door and demand things. Who are they to demand anything from him? They know nothing. There are merely stepping stones for him to eliminate along the way as he makes his way to the land of promise. And he has nearly succeeded after millions of years waiting. Those that were to have attempted to stop him are below him now, being dealt with. There is nothing that can stop him.

The sound of liquid flowing causes him to turn around and see the man from below sitting at a table pouring two drinks into a glass. Whiskey. How did he even get up here without him knowing? Or had he been so concerned with the final leg of his plan that he began to suffer from tunnel vision? The man invites him to sit at the table he is at and the cyborg tilts his head.

'What are you doing?'

The Doctor shrugs and pushes the glass of whiskey forward. 'I've got the horrible feeling I'm going to have to kill you. I thought you might appreciate a drink first. I know I would.' The Doctor takes a sip from the whiskey and swallows it. It's warming, pleasant and not all that bad.

As the Doctor assumed, the cyborg ignores him and walks over to a control panel and pulls a lever. The restaurant begins to shake as the roof slowly begins to retract, noisily and parts of plaster and dust begin to fall, settling on ground as the Doctor begins to walk towards the cyborg. He does nothing but watch the Doctor carefully approach him.

'51st century, right? Time travelling spaceship, crashed in the past. You're trying to get home the long way round.' The Doctor surmises and the cyborg ignores him for another moment before he turns over to the Doctor.

'I go to the Promised Land.'

The Doctor sighs. 'So you keep saying,' He watches as the cyborg pulls another lever but remains silent. 'Okay, so your restaurant is made out of your old ship,' He begins thinking to himself and notices that a large bouquet of yellow roses has been knocked to the floor and he scoops them up. Inhaling their scent. Beautiful. Ironic, though, he thinks, as yellow roses signify that one's forgotten something. Yeah, this whole situation. And Charlie…and the blonde's name. He refuses to call her Charlie because that's not her name. 'But you're wasting your time, it can't ever fly.'

'The escape pod is viable.' The cyborg explains and the Doctor shakes his head. Twirling the roses in his hand. What's he forgotten? Why is this familiar to him? Why does he recall the blonde being so uptight with him before? This situation mirrors another one. She hadn't spoken to him for days after. Why? What's he missing?

'How? You can't patch up a spaceship with human remains,' The Doctor insists and pauses, he inhales the roses again. Listening to his own words. He's nearly there, he can feel it. 'You know, this really is ringing a bell.'

The cyborg presses another series of buttons on the control panel hidden in the wall. When he presses the final one, another batch of tremors shakes the restaurant and dusts falls onto them with earnest. 'I will go to the Promised Land.'

'Okay, that's clever. How are you powering it?' The Doctor wonders and strides to the control panel to see.

'Skin.'

'Oh…'

His mind continues to swirl with thoughts on this situation and where he's seen it before. Why it's so familiar it nearly hurts. Why the blonde made the comments she did. A horse. Fireplace. A French royal mistress. Where does it all fit in with this?! He's wracking his mind for answers but is coming up empty handed. Yellow roses means he's forgotten something. Yeah, he's forgotten a lot of things. Come on, why is this so hard. Just remember.

Remember!

He stares at the roses longer. He barely has a memory. They're all fleeting, coming and going. But he remembers this scene, this set up. He recalls robots trying to repair a ship. And that they used human parts. And these roses in his hand…he remembers something about roses. He was drawn to them, that's why he picked them up. On top of trying to stop what's happening here, he's trying to figure out his place in this world, who he is now and why he's been thrust into this situation with the experience he has. And strangely why he wants chips…

* * *

Rose rolls over Jenny's back as she bends forward and Rose kicks her legs out, knocking one of the robots onto the ground, Jenny tosses over her weapon and Rose drives it into the chest of the robot, she backs up and waits a few seconds before she pulls the weapon out and lobs it over to Jenny who attempts to take off the head of another. Rose pants and groans as the robot she'd just impaled slowly gets back up again.

'Oh, come on!' She complains loudly and Vastra and Jenny begin to converse as they fight.

'It's so nice to be getting out and doing things together.' Jenny remarks and Vastra side steps out of the way of a robot that tries to slice through her.

'And what luck, we have a third person who enjoy our little outings together. Another to join our menagerie.' Vastra replies and Jenny starts to laugh. She shakes her head and tosses Rose back the weapon.

'Phrasing,' Jenny catches the weapon. She turns to look at Rose who is just getting up from driving the sword into the robot once again when she is taken from behind. 'Rose!'

Rose struggles in the grip of the robot that has her in a chokehold. Clara comes rushing to her side but Rose holds her hand out to stop her and keep her safe. She continues to wiggle in the robot's grasp, kicking herself up in the air to loosen its grip on her. It doesn't help; it lets her go a slight amount but only to get a better grip of her. Jenny and Vastra slowly begin to make their way towards her hoping to help her, even Strax telling her to hold on. Rose plants her feet on the ground before springing off her left foot and throwing her right leg over her shoulder where her leg connect with the head of the robot and disorientates it. It lets her go just enough that she secures a grasp on it and throws it down.

'Teach _me_ that!' Jenny calls and thrusts the sword into an on coming robot's chest. Rose smirks and nods her head.

'Deal!'

Vastra exhales as she drops another robot to the ground. 'Ladies, how many do you estimate?'

Rose's hand flies to her arm as she was too slow to move out of the way of one of the knives attached to the robot. She hisses and glares at it. Jenny is knocked back into Rose and together they fall to the ground.

'You okay?' Rose questions and holds her hand out to help Jenny up.

'Thanks, and yes,' Jenny rushes back to Vastra's side who has begun to get surrounded and lunges at the robots. 'More upstairs, about twenty, thirty?' Jenny surmises and Vastra nods her head, fully accepting the challenge, but she believes it is a bit easier.

'The ones upstairs were mere decoys. These are battle ready. I anticipate a challenge.' Vastra replies and Rose smiles. She twists out of the way of another robot who has tried to clumsily stabbed her.

This isn't like the last time where she and Mickey were strapped to a table waiting to be saved. She's the hero of her own story now. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Clara continues to stick close to Strax who is rapidly firing at the robots. He nods at her when they lock eyes. 'Don't worry, my boy, we shall die in glory!' He declares and Clara widens her eyes.

'That's a bit grim but okay. Good-o!'

Clara begins to think of a way to help them. She might not be able to physically fight off these things but surely there is an easier way to deal with them. Think, think. How can they make this easier on everyone? What about the Doctor? Has he caught up with that half man like thing? And what was that rumbling earlier?

* * *

Overhead there is a square escape capsule that is tethered to the balloon as it floats away over London. The Doctor pays attention to what's happening but is curious as to the controls and their functions still that he reaches forward and pulls out the closest fuse. He turns it over and tucks the roses under his arm. The fuse bears the name SS Marie Antoinette. French. He widens his eyes and backs away.

"SS Marie Antoinette. Out of control repair Droids, cannibalising human beings. I know that this is familiar, but I just can't seem to place it.' The Doctor laments. They were on a spaceship once before. Who are 'they' exactly? Then he was in France. Three of them together. He met someone in France. Right? Did that happen?

 _You sound just like your mother._

Who, who sounds like whose mother? This is rather irksome. How can he recover if it's as though his mind won't even try? Or is he simply trying too hard?

'How would you kill me?' The cyborg wonders abruptly and the Doctor continues to stare at the fuse in his hands before replacing it and secures a grasp on the flowers. Those roses. They are comforting to him. Like a light in the dark. They are guiding him. Follow the light and it'll help him remember. The yellow roses are telling him to remember what he's forgotten and yet roses are comforting to him. Maybe it's the yellow colour. It's bright, and so is the blonde's hair…and her eyes. Her eyes go yellow sometimes…all of this makes his head hurt.

"Sister ship of the Madame De Pompadour," That name…the Doctor inhales the scent of the roses and exhales. 'Nope, not getting it.' He sighs.

'How would you kill me?' The cyborg repeats and the Doctor motions to the table that still has two whiskey glasses poised on them. He gives the cyborg a small smile.

'Why don't you have a drink first? It's only human.' The Doctor offers and watches the cyborg's eyes fall to the drinks but he then raises them and stares at the Doctor blankly.

'I am not human.'

The Doctor smiles crookedly for a brief moment before it vanishes and his thoughts begin to invade once again. He walks over to the table with the whiskey and scoops up his glass, taking another sip. 'Neither am I.'

The cyborg walks to the doors and opens them, lingering in the entrance way for a moment before he turns around and begins to head towards the Doctor's table. Mechanically the cyborg sits and places his forearms on the table. With the doors now open the cyborg and the Doctor sit at the table and the cyborg directs his gaze to the city as it passes them by. The Doctor enjoys the view. Beautiful and quiet. He looks to the roses he placed on the table beside him when he sat. Work your magic, he silently tells them. Am I good man? Rose, tell me who I am. He straightens up. Why did he say Rose instead of roses? Why singular and not plural? He must be getting closer.

'What do you think of the view?' The Doctor attempts to engage the cyborg in conversation. And even though the cyborg is looking at it, studying it, his answer is automatic and untrue.

'I do not think of it.'

The Doctor sits back in the chair and while addressing the cyborg's lies; his eyes never stray far from the yellow roses. 'I don't think of it. I don't. Droids and apostrophes, I could write a book, except you are…barely a Droid any more. There's more human in you than machine. So tell me…what do you think of the view?'

The cyborg pushes the chair back and stands; walking to the window he pauses and moves the curtain back. He stares for a long time before he gives the Doctor his answer. 'It is beautiful.'

The Doctor pushes his own chair back, scoops the flowers up and joins the cyborg at the window and together they watch London below as they pass over it. 'No, it isn't. It's just far away. Everything looks too small. I prefer it down there. Everything is huge. Everything is so important. Every detail, every moment, every life clung to.'

'How would you kill me?' The cyborg wonders and the Doctor tears his eyes away from the flowers and leans on the wall next to the cyborg.

'For the same reason that you're asking me that question – because you don't really want to carry on,' The Doctor replies and walks away from the cyborg staring at the roses. He glances over to the booth that is connected to the shaft and wonders how the others a getting on. He worries for them and so he questions the cyborg. 'What'll happen to the other Droids when you die? You're the control node, aren't you? Presumably they'll deactivate.'

'I will not die. I will reach the Promised Land.' The cyborg repeats and the Doctor scoffs, twirling the roses in his hand. He shakes his head and points to the cyborg's head.

'There isn't any Promised Land. This is just…it's a superstition that you have picked up from all the humanity you've stuffed inside yourself.' The Doctor explains and the cyborg continues to stare at the Doctor confused but the Doctor can tell that he is starting to question his existence.

'I am not dead.' The cyborg maintains and the Doctor inhales the roses once again.

 _Run!_

 _What's your name?_

 _Rose?_

 _Nice to meet you Rose, now run for your life!_

The Doctor frowns, pushing aside the strange memory and focuses on the task at hand. 'You are a broom. Question – you take a broom, you replace the handle, and then later you replace the brush and you do that over and over again. Is it still the same broom? Answer – no, of course it isn't. But you can still sweep the floor. Which is not strictly relevant, skip that last part. You have replaced every piece of yourself, mechanical and organic, time and time again – there's not a trace of the original you left,' The Doctor informs him and sets the flowers back down on the table to pick up a silver platter. He walks back to the cyborg and holds up the platter so the cyborg can see his reflection. The Doctor peers around it. 'You probably can't even remember where you got that face from.'

The cyborg reaches his arm out and takes the platter from the Doctor and stares hard into it. He can see the cyborg examining his own face multiple times at different angles and on the other side; the Doctor can't help but catch sight of his own reflection. He smiles ironically. Not a win but not a strike out either. To his left he can see the roses on the table and thinks back to the randomness of the voice that echoed in his mind not moments ago. Memories of his life. His history with her.

 _Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life._

 _I want you safe, my Doctor…_

 _Come here…I think you need a Doctor…_ (He remembers that kiss being electrifying.)

 _I took your hand and said one word, just one._

 _Doctor…?_

 _Hello._

He can't make out the girl's face. Her back is always to him. Rose. But that's her name. Could it be his blonde down below? Could the girl he's only seeing the back of in his memories be the same girl that's been by his side since…well since the beginning be the same?

But then why is there such a dark gap? He frowns as he tries to remember everything. He can hear someone crying out in rage and confusion, hurt but actions he doesn't quite recall doing, and maybe it will come later. He's just stunned at the desperation and her seemingly one-sided conversation in his mind.

 _I will not be left behind!_

 _I don't want to be caged. Please don't cage me…_

 _Let me in…can't we talk about this?_

 _But I love you…shouldn't that mean more?_

 _No! Come back!_

That's it…that's all he remembers. A black hole. At least without that blonde girl in it. He moved on, that's what he does. He doesn't let things stop because he's lost someone; he loses people all the time. Which is sad in and of itself but then again…he's never been as close to someone as the blonde in his memories. That blonde woman…he loved her. Which can explain why he feels the same way around the blonde down below. Those feelings he felt for her the moment he laid eyes upon her seemed to be reignited or he remembered them even if he didn't remember her. Just their strong connection. And that it made him want to figure it out.

He then remembers the reaction when she actually steps back into his life again. How calm she had been, burying her bitterness while he had been stunned and questioned her authenticity as a human. How foolish he had been. Then again, how foolishly in love with her he had been.

 _It's impossible. You can't be here…you can't be real…_

 _Why can't I be?_

 _Because I let you go!_

 _Look at you…you just keep getting younger. Except those eyes. They never change._

She's one to talk. She housed the power of the vortex within her once. It nearly killed her. He saved her and their love grew deeper because of it. Their adventures together, good and bad and how he then broke her heart. And how they managed to move past it. He thought they did quite well.

Look at him. He's decided, then, hasn't he? Those memories of her. She is perfection to him. A human, pink and yellow, who is hope in his darkest hour – the light in his life when all others go out. She is the spark. She is the sound of glass shattering – the sharp ringing in his ears that snaps him out of any mood he is in. She is the zig-zag in his straight line and the absence in his direction. He knows that she can be his every turn he takes, like he was racing through a hedge maze trying to beat the setting sun. She is a sentence that isn't scripted and to him…she is the word he wished he could say to her.

There is so much history in the way he looks at her – earlier in the bedroom. When he says her name…Rose, his Rose, he feels something awaken. When they are together…the current that runs between them is palpable, like an electric charge that is just shy of erupting into a perfect storm.

And now he understands why he had called her by that name before. The man that drove a wedge between them and tested what they had. But he shouldn't say that. It tested how he felt about her. Not the other way around. They had done their wrongs to each other. He wanted to write to her in a time where her could find her, before that man made them test each other. The other of that man loving her as he did, that had been on his mind before he regenerated. It had been an accident and looking back on their interactions he could see her hurt. How could he make it up to her? He'd better start thinking of a way after he deals with the problem at hand. Just as he snaps out of his own fog of memories, the cyborg throws the platter onto the table in a fit of rage and raises his blank stare to the Doctor.

'It cannot end.' The cyborg decides firmly and the Doctor begins to meander around the room and sighs. He pauses by the window and shrugs.

'It has to. You know it does. And there's only one way out.' The Doctor informs him and takes a few steps towards the door and opens it. The cyborg turns his gaze to the door and tilts his head.

'Self destruction is against my basic program.' The cyborg explains and while the Doctor is apparently engrossed in watching the view below the cyborg raises his hand to strike the Doctor while his back is turned.

However the Doctor can sense the cyborg's looming presence. 'And murder is against mine!'

The Doctor turns just in time to block the cyborg's attack and the two of them struggle in front of the open door. The Doctor looks over his shoulder at the drop down, which he doesn't want to be the one to see how far down he'll drop. He finds his thoughts wander to Rose…and he hopes that she's okay.

* * *

Rose pants as she flings another robot off her. The group had been disarmed minutes ago and in that short time span, they had become overwhelmed and surrounded. She had lost sight of Clara but knew that Strax would keep her as safe as he could. Vastra has lost sight of Jenny and she desperately calls out to her.

'Jenny!'

Clara looks around the robots and attempts to spot anyone she can. Strax pushes Clara behind him as the robots advance on them further. Clara widens her eyes. Why are they doing this, when there is an easier way?

'Everyone! Everyone, hold your breath. They're stupid. Everybody hold their breath!' Clara demands and inhales deeply; she puts her hand across her mouth and nose to keep the air out.

Because of the fighting she'd been doing, Rose finds it difficult to keep holding her breath because she wants to pant so badly. She follows Clara's actions and plasters her hand across her mouth and nose in an effort to stop breathing but her lungs crave it. She closes her eyes and concentrates.

Clara drops her gaze to the ground and notices the sonic is just by her feet. The moment everyone has stopped breathing, the robots pull away their weapons and pause, as if to ascertain where the enemies have gone. She sinks to her knees and crawls on the floor as she hunts for the sonic. When she finds it she kisses it and continues to crawl away. She pauses when she finds Vastra and Jenny locked in a passionate kiss and she nods her head in approval before stopping in front of the door and she smiles, wiping the sweat from her brow she kneels and points the sonic at the door, hoping that this will be their way out.

She nearly lets out a gasp when she aims it at the door but nothing happens. Desperation sets in. She shakes it harder and tries again. Nothing happens. She turns over her shoulder and widens her eyes; this was their way out. Her plan to get them out safe and sound. She watches Rose take a step back and lock her hands behind her head to take her mind off the lack of oxygen. Clara directs her gaze to the door. Open. She aims the sonic and tries again. Open!

* * *

The Doctor manages to gain the upper hand in the scuffle and is able to press and pin the cyborg against the doors. He stares deeply at the cyborg who of course stares at him with nothing but dead eyes. An unnerving stare that doesn't stop. Surely now the time has come. They have to admit that to one another.

The cyborg gives the Doctor a small, half smile. 'You are stronger than you look.'

'And I'm hoping you are too. This…is over. Are you capable of admitting that?' The Doctor wonders and the cyborg studies the Doctor with careful regard.

'Do you have it in you to murder me?'

The Doctor looks down to London below him. When he's satisfied with what he knows, he smiles a bit and motions to the city with his head. 'Those people down there, they're never too small to me. Don't make assumptions about how far I will go to protect them, because I've already come a very long way. And unlike you, I don't expect to reach the Promised Land.'

The cyborg pauses, listening to the Doctor's words before he switches off the torch and lowers his arm. The Doctor slowly back away to the opposite door and catches his breath.

'You realise, of course, one of us is lying about our basic programming.'

'Yes.' The cyborg agrees and the Doctor drops his hands to his side, anticipating what will be coming next.

'And I think we both know who that is.'

The cyborg lunges for the Doctor and they continue to tussle for supremacy before the cyborg stops and straightens up. The words have finally gotten to him, it's evident. The drive to survive has left him. The Doctor watches carefully, before lowering his guard as the cyborg gives him a curt nod and turns towards the open door. The cyborg fixes his coat and takes three large strides before he falls out of the door and to his death. The Doctor exhales slowly and walks towards the door, peering out to see that a spire has impaled him. His top hat gracefully falls down clock face at Westminster.

As the escape pod continues to listlessly float over London, the Doctor waits until the pod has lowered enough and over an appropriate courtyard before he takes a running leap out of the pod and holds his breath while he falls for his target. Which he lands in perfectly, though he does fear he'll be pulling straw out of places for a long time.

* * *

The door opens slowly. Silently. Well nearly silently but since this is his ship…he can sense these things. He's pleased when he sees who it is. He's so excited that he can share with her what he remembered. That he knows her name. He watches her taking in the changes he's made, only recently as she's come rather quickly. Her eyes are darting all around and the smile appears on her face, gradual but when she spots him in the upper level which now has been lined with book shelves and a leather chair, she grins. He doesn't move from his spot in the chair, his feet reclined.

'Didn't take you long to change things now, did it?'

'No, do you like it?'

'I love it.'

'Everyone's okay?' The Doctor questions and Rose nods her head. She leans against the console, keeping him in her line of vision and folds her arms.

'I disappeared soon after we made it out, giving my thanks to Jenny, Vastra and Strax. Clara didn't see me leave. She needs time.' Rose tells him and the Doctor looks away.

'I've scared her. I never meant to scare her.'

'Oh, Doctor, I know. She just…doesn't understand the lottery of regeneration.' Rose tries and the Doctor places his hands behind his head and stares ahead. Rose can see him thinking deeply on her words. She hopes he understands that he's done nothing wrong.

'What if…she doesn't want to come along anymore. What then, Rose?'

'Like I said Doctor, she may just need some time to comprehend things. I-…' Rose pauses and widens her eyes. She turns to him and pushes herself off the console, walking until she is directly in front of him. 'What did you just call me?'

'Rose. That's what I called you. That's your name.'

'You…remembered. I knew…' Rose trails off and shrugs at her emotions. Wondering why she's feeling so emotional to begin with. 'Never mind.'

'I'd like to apologise for earlier. I never meant to call you Ch-…' He begins before Rose interrupts him. She doesn't want to mix things up again, no more blending of her past and present. Though that is all she seems to do.

'It doesn't matter. Just forget it.'

'No, I won't. I'm sorry.'

'You don't have to apologise for anything. Please just…no more. Don't talk about him to me. Not now. We're working on what _we_ have.' Rose begs and the Doctor looks away. But he has to confess to her that she and that man were on his mind. He wants to start fresh with her. So that she knows it isn't a big deal for him anymore, that he _is_ getting over it. Now he just has to vocalise what he just thought.

'No, Rose. I want to tell you that you were right in what you were thinking. You and him were on my mind before. I want to make things right between us over that subject.' The Doctor replies and Rose holds up her hand to make him stop.

'You can make it up to me by forgetting about-…' Rose begins before the shrill ring of a mobile phone pierces through her sentence. That's her mobile ringing. Where is it?

The Doctor holds up her mobile and she widens her eyes. 'This what you're looking for?'

'Where'd you get that?' Rose leans forward at the Doctor lobs her mobile down to her. She glances at the screen to see it flashing and unknown number. Great, those are always the worst. You never know who's on the receiving end.

'It was on the console. You gonna answer that?' He wonders and Rose shakes her head, fully intent on ignoring it so that she and the Doctor can finish this conversation.

'No, not until we're done here.'

'Go on, answer it.'

'No, it's rude, we're talking.'

'I don't mind.'

Rose eyes him suspiciously. 'Do you know who's ringing me?'

'Answer it.'

Rose glances to the mobile before lifting her gaze to the Doctor and he gives her a nod. She sighs and slides her finger across the screen and brings her phone to her ear, falling back to default mode. 'Marion speaking.'

' _I don't want to speak to Marion, I want to speak to Rose.'_

The Doctor watches Rose's hand slowly cover her mouth from shock and he smiles to himself before shifting his gaze back to stare at the wall in front of him. He misses Rose turning up to him while tears spring to her eyes.

'How…how is this possible? Where are you calling me from?'

' _Take a guess. Go on.'_

'I have no idea. Just tell me.'

' _Trenzalore.'_

'When?' Rose whispers and wracks her mind attempts to think of a time when he could possibly have the time to talk to her. Was it during that centuries old gap when he sent her away and when she came back?

' _Just after the explosion. I saw you escape using the severed ropes and made sure you were safe after you landed. I wanted to stay but…I had to get back to the TARDIS, just in case.'_

Rose feels the tears fall in confusion and then smiles. 'Yeah, no of course you did. But…why are you calling me? I thought we had a pretty decent send off, you and I.'

' _We did? What'd we do?'_

'Don't tell him, make it a surprise.' The Doctor calls down to her and Rose looks up to him still stunned. He wants to go down there and wipe her tears away but not yet. Now isn't the time.

' _Who's that? Is that me? I sound…old. Oh no, did I get old?'_

'That's for me to know, and you to find out. And besides…there are worse things in the world than getting older.' Rose tells him and is surprised when both Doctors laugh. She smiles before it wavers and she presses her lips together.

' _True enough.'_

'Why are you calling me?' Rose whispers and the Doctor huffs in her ear.

' _I wanted to…say some things to you. In case I didn't get the chance to. In case it happens before you get here.'_

'Yeah? Like what?' Rose breathes and the Doctor looks down to her, wiping at the tears that keep falling. She's not doing a good job.

' _About how I treated you.'_

'You treat me just fine.'

' _But I didn't.'_ He insists and Rose shakes her head and turns her back to the Doctor. He watches and makes an attempt to get comfortable in the chair. Is it still considered eavesdropping if you're actually the one on the other end of the mobile?

'It doesn't matter, now, Doctor, yeah?'

' _My conscious is burdened.'_

'Then unburden it.'

' _I'm trying but you gotta listen.'_ He tells her and Rose closes her eyes. They had this conversation. He asked if she forgave him. She told him she did. Was that just something he needed to hear or to be reassured – after this conversation – that she was being truthful?

'Okay. I'm sorry. Go on.'

' _Where do I even begin to start?'_ He wonders rhetorically and Rose begins to pace around the console. The Doctor watches her. He wants to give her a hand to hold, but it isn't time yet.

'Wherever you feel is appropriate.'

' _Going back to how that rift all started? In Bergen?'_

Saying that name causes her heart to lurch. He wants to go _that_ far back? 'If you want to…'

' _Or back to when I should have just regenerated instead of creating something I shouldn't have. Not to mar your memories. I don't mean to.'_ He backtracks and Rose shakes her head. The Doctor watches her drop her hand to her side and it shakes. She actually shakes.

'I know you don't. But you already apologised for that.' She insists and closes her eyes when he sighs loudly in her ear in disagreement.

' _Maybe I'd feel better if I did it again.'_

'You know you won't. Stop lying to me.'

' _It's one of the biggest regrets I have.'_

'I know, you've told me before. But we've gotten over it. You and I will always have little hiccups here and there. That's what makes us, us. And our ability to shout and scream at each other,' Rose pauses while the Doctor laughs and agrees with her. 'Before we move on.'

' _And then fight about it again later.'_ He adds and Rose smiles at their jealousies. Things like that will be dealt with at the appropriate time

'That's just us. Through and through. Doesn't mean I love you any less.'

' _I'm sorry for…well, you know…judging you about -…'_ He begins before Rose interrupts him shaking her head. She begins to twist the end of her hair, trying to keep her mind busy so her tears stop falling.

'It's fine. You've both apologised for it. Leave it be.'

' _So…if I'm there…with you…what am I like?'_

'I'm not going to tell you that.'

' _Why?'_

'Why do you think?'

' _Are we getting along?'_

Rose turns over to the Doctor and he smiles at her, a small one. One that tells her he's recalling this conversation too. 'I think so. The adventure's finished. We'll be able to spend more time together. That way we can see if we click.'

'I'd like that. Very much.' The Doctor calls to her and Rose nods her head at him eagerly. He still wants to wipe the tears away. He carefully stands and watches her pause by the console.

' _I can't imagine why we wouldn't.'_ Comes the reply through the phone.

'I guess we'll have to see.' Rose teases and she can hear the Doctor slowly descending from his spot on the second level. Rose turns over and smiles at him through her tears.

Rose can see that he hesitates. He isn't sure what to do now that he's around her, he hasn't thought that far ahead. Things are always a little awkward at first. She's learned that.

' _Thanks for all that you've done for me, Rose. I mean it.'_

Rose shakes her head. 'You're not going anywhere. You're right here.'

' _Maybe I just want to thank you.'_

'Okay, done. You're welcome. As always.'

' _I just wanted you to know.'_ He insists and Rose nods her head at him. She still doesn't understand why he's going through all this trouble; they've worked through this before.

Rose looks over to the Doctor who is still looking at the ground and she reaches back to take his hand for a moment before she lets go and begins to twist the end of her hair, trying to phrase her next request delicately and lowers her voice.

'Will you do me a favour?'

' _Of course.'_

'Call Clara next. She needs reassurance. She's scared and uncomfortable.'

' _What, why?'_

'Because this is new to her. Please?' Rose pleads and there is a pause on the other end while she waits for his response, though deep within her she already knows what it will be.

' _Yeah, I will. What should I say to her?'_

'You'll think of something. The moment will do the rest.' Rose assures him and the other end goes silent again.

'Okay, Rose. I will,' He replies and Rose hears something going on in the TARDIS on the other line. She holds her breath. _'I have to go. Someone's coming. I think it's you.'_

'Bet you it is.'

' _I guess…this is goodbye.'_

'It really isn't, I'll see you on the other side,' Rose takes the phone from her ear and stares at for a while and watches the screen go dark. She holds the phone to her chest and closes her eyes. A few moments pass before she places the mobile on the console and turns around to the Doctor who is watching her carefully. 'Why did you do that?'

He looks away. 'I just felt…things between us…wouldn't have closed properly if I didn't.'

Rose holds her hand out to him and he looks at her outstretched hand before gingerly taking it tightly in his own. 'If they hadn't then we would've just waited until we had a moment to talk about it.'

The Doctor watches her slowly take a few steps closer towards him until she's standing right in front of him. Those hazel eyes are staring at him so deeply. And she hasn't let go of his hand. 'Are you sure you know who I am?'

'Long ago, when I myself questioned it, you looked at me and smiled. And told me a secret that only the Doctor would know.' Rose explains and the Doctor frowns.

'I did?'

'Of course. You told me how you met me. With one simple word.'

'Run…'

'That's right. We've never really stopped, have we?' Rose wonders and acting on impulse, Rose embraces him but is a bit surprised he doesn't embrace her back. She can feel his arms still at his side. 'You gonna just stand there?'

'I just…don't think I'm a hugging person anymore.' The Doctor replies and Rose holds him out at arms length and frowns at him with a slight smirk.

'Well when you're with me, you are. So.' Rose trails off and embraces him once again. This time, after some hesitation, he wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly to him. Rose rests her head on his chest and sighs lightly.

He has to admit…this is rather nice. After initial discomfort when Rose had held him…it felt right to him. Her hand fit so well with his. And if he recalls…it always had. Trying to be a bit bold, Rose stands on her toes and gives him a light kiss on the cheek. She pulls away and he looks stunned, he merely…stares at her.

'I…' He begins but Rose shakes her head.

'It wasn't as bad as you thought. Yeah?'

He can't tell if she's referring to the kiss or the hug. Both of which he hadn't minded. 'No…'

'Good. But I won't make you any more uncomfortable,' Rose places her hand on his chest and winks. 'Like the outfit, by the way.'

'Yeah?'

'Very mature for you. A nice change. People may just take you seriously from now on.' Rose teases and the Doctor smiles at her. Their adventures. He could get used to them. She certainly brings something to them he isn't sure he'd get if he were alone.

How can he describe what they have? He isn't sure. Is it a love story?

No, it's their story.

He looks at her. She and him. Against the rules, it seems like that have been set before them by time. As though a marker had been drawn to show their time is set to end, because it's permanency has been etched into time's own line. Still their briefest moments together, shared with her are the longest on his mind. And how desperately he wants more.

* * *

'You, have one of the first publications of Voltaire's _The Age of Louis XIV?_ You?'

'When you're there on the day it's released, yes.'

'From 1751? Can I…? Oh my god…'

'How'd we even get talking about Voltaire?'

'No idea. This is beautiful… ''Il est coupable de tout le bien qu'il ne fait pas."' Rose trails off; there is a stunned tone to her voice.

Clara frowns and wonders what they are possibly going on about. She had been hesitant to come. Perfectly sure that after Rose had disappeared, she'd be stuck in this Victorian like setting forever. Maybe she needed time to accept things she couldn't change. Maybe that's all it was. That wasn't to say she was annoyed Rose had left her alone, she didn't mind. Obviously Rose is beyond comfortable with this entire ordeal, then whatever. She couldn't do much to change Rose's mind either. What she didn't understand is just how Rose seemed to adapt to this new person that stands in front of them with little to no regard of how different he is than the man who left them behind in Trenzalore. She's got the attitude of, well that happened, time to move on. How can Rose do it? And _why_ can't she do it? What's she missing?

Gingerly Clara takes a few more steps around the console to be surprised at the small makeover the TARDIS has gotten. New man, new look? Is that how it works now? Change…yeah; she's not good with it.

As Clara rounds the console to the stairs that lead up to the second level, she sees the upper level is now lined with bookshelves and a leather chair poised in the corner. Rose is standing on the level with the Doctor by her side as they pour of some book by Voltaire. She clears her throat and both of them turn around to see her standing there with her arms folded. Clara gives them a tight smile and shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, trying to show them that this situation doesn't bother her as much as it does.

'You've redecorated.' Clara observes and the Doctor turns towards her to stare at her head on. Rose quietly shuts the book and remains quiet as she hugs it to her chest and allows Clara and the Doctor to have their moment. They so desperately need it to reconnect.

'Yes.'

'I don't like it.' Clara decides and Rose smiles as she turns her gaze to the Doctor who absently shrugs as well.

'Not completely entirely convinced myself. I think there should be more round things on the walls. I used to have lots of round things. I wonder where I put them.' The Doctor tells them, but his eyes are locked with Rose's who shrugs and motions silently at him to pay attention and not become distracted. She then nods her head and the Doctor slowly walks down the stairs with Rose a few steps above him. Clara stays close to the console. The only familiarity she has at the moment.

'Easy…' Rose whispers and the Doctor turns his head slight to acknowledge that he's heard her but Clara has no idea what she's said to him. However he does seem to descend the stairs with a slower pace and pause at the bottom. Clara shies away.

'Clara?' The Doctor calls to her and Clara peers around the console.

'Hm?'

'I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes,' He pauses and surprises Clara by rounding the opposite side of the console and she widens her eyes. 'And it's time I did something about that. Clara, I'm not your boyfriend.'

Clara crinkles her nose in shock before arching her eyebrow at him. He's serious about that last statement. 'I never thought you were.'

'It wasn't your mistake to make,' The Doctor clarifies and Rose closes the last little gap between them before standing beside the Doctor and giving Clara a sympathetic smile. She can see the uneasiness in Clara's eyes. Clara withdraws into herself further when the Doctor gets closer to her to set the TARDIS in motion and to show off his new attire to her as well. Black on black with a red lined jacket. 'What do you think?'

Clara frowns. 'Who put that advert in the paper?'

'I can think of one good person.' Rose sighs and the Doctor turns over to her and shakes his head. Clara's eyes dart between the jealousies suddenly evident in Rose's rolling of her eyes while the Doctor will have none of it. He turns back to Clara.

'Who gave you my number? A long time ago, remember? You were give the number of a computer helpline, and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?'

Clara begins to go back in her memories for that face. While Rose hopes that she's realising this is the Doctor's way of attempting to show her that he is the same man always. It worked for her. Now she can only hope it will work for Clara. 'The woman. The woman in the shop.'

'Then there's a woman out there who's very keen that we stay together.' The Doctor informs her and Clara's head whips around to the doors when she hears the TARDIS materialise.

'Am I…?' Clara begins softly but is cut off by the Doctor finishing off his thought. Rose leans against the console as Clara draws ever so closer to acceptance or rejection.

'How do you feel on the subject?' The Doctor wonders hopefully and Clara clears her throat, willing her voice to be louder. She can't take this stifling awkwardness and the forceful way in which they make themselves communicate. It may work for Rose…but it isn't working for her. She doesn't belong here. Because she doesn't know what here is anymore. Nor those who are in it.

'Am I home?' Clara questions and the Doctor absently shrugs, gripping the console tightly. Rose covers his left hand with her own, out of sight of Clara.

'If you want to be.' The Doctor smiles at her and Clara goes white. She takes a few steps back towards the door, so relieved that she's back at home, and Rose peers around the corner. Clara gives her a tight, strained smile before shaking her head quickly.

'I'm sorry. I'm…I'm so, so sorry…but I don't think I know who you are any more.' Clara decides firmly and she can see the moment that his hearts break. He says nothing to her but a nod of his head and he straightens up. Clara is about to say something but her phone rings. Loudly. She lets it ring a few more times before she begins to fish around her pocket for it. Still she doesn't answer it.

'Between you and Rose today…' The Doctor trails off and sighs before motioning to her mobile. 'You should get that. It might be your boyfriend.'

'Shut up,' Clara answers automatically but the Doctor notices that she smiles at him nevertheless. 'I don't have a boyfriend.' She walks to the door and throws it open, leaving the Doctor and Rose to watch her leave. They move around the console together and pause just in the doorway, watching Clara bring her mobile to her ear.

'I've scared her away for good.' The Doctor decides and Rose looks up to him.

'Give it time. I told you…the moment will do that rest.'

'Why did you want to come back after the first time?' The Doctor wonders and Rose gives him a bit of a smirk coupled with a flat look. As though he should know the reason. Because she doesn't need to vocalise it. 'Oh. I see. Well, that explains a lot. But we're different. Always an exception to the rules, you and I. How do I make someone come back?'

'Oh, Doctor, you don't. Free will. But if I can imagine what you'll say to her…everything will work out in the end. You'll see.'

Together they fall silent and watch Clara have a conversation that will no doubt confuse her and stir up all the emotions she's been keeping at bay since this whole ordeal started. But it'll work out in the end. Most things tend to do just that.

'Hello! Hello?' Clara calls and frowns, pressing her free hand to her ear to drown out the noise around her. She attempts to hear through the static on the other end and grows impatient. Who the hell is calling her?

' _It's me.'_

'Yes, it's you, who's this?' Clara rolls her eyes at the answer; she's started meandering around the traffic trying to ascertain who it is.

' _It's me, Clara. The Doctor.'_

She pauses in mid stride. 'What do you mean, the Doctor?'

' _I'm phoning you from Trenzalore on the advice of a good friend.'_

'I don't…'

' _From before I changed,'_ There is a pause and Clara can feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Rose. It's the only good friend she can think of that would have told him to reassure her. How could she have possibly known? _'I mean it's all still to happen for me, it's a coming. Oh, it's a-coming. Not long I can…feel it.'_

Clara moves the phone to her chest to stifle the sob she wants to release and instead settles for the tears sliding down her cheeks in earnest. 'Why? Why would you do this?' She whispers, her voice has no strength in it anymore.

' _Because I think it's going to be a whopper and I think you might be scared. And however scared you are, Clara, the man you are with right now, the man I hope you are with, believe me, he is more scared than anything you can imagine right now and he…he needs you.'_

Clara swallows a tight lump in her throat and turns over to the TARDIS where she sees the Doctor standing in the doorway looking at her eagerly with Rose by his side. She has her fingers laced with his and is hugging his arm to her chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Whatever help he needs, it isn't needed from her. He has Rose. That's all he needs. Right? Look at them…they only need one another.

'He…you…he doesn't need me. He has Rose.' Clara insists and the Doctor chuckles lightly in her ear. She frowns at his jovialness.

' _Of course I need you! You're my Impossible Girl! I need all my companions, Clara. I need all the help I can get.'_

'So, who is it?' The Doctor calls to her and Clara turns over her shoulder. Rose has a soft smile on her lips because she knows this scene before. Somewhere in her history with the Doctor…something like this has played out between them. Maybe that's why she wasn't scared, why she had been so utterly accepting of everything that's happened. She's been around the block before. But how do you just…move on and accept the memories you made with a different person. How are they still the same, how are they still valid?

' _Is that the Doctor?'_

'Is that the Doctor?'

Clara nods her head. 'Yes.'

' _He sounds old. Please tell me I don't get old,'_ He sighs in her ear. _'Ah, she wouldn't tell me either! Anything but old! I was young. Because I could be. But for her, what's she gonna?…damn. Oh! Oh. Oh…is he grey?'_

Clara smiles through her tears. She's missed listening to those ramblings! Never have they been so comfortable. 'Yes…'

He must sense the hesitation in her voice. _'Clara, please, eh, for me, help him. Go on…and don't be afraid,'_ There is a slight pause and Clara watches the Doctor and Rose step out of the TARDIS. He continues to walk towards her and while Rose follows him…she stops a distance and gives them space. How Clara wished she hadn't done that. ' _Goodbye, Clara. Miss you.'_

Clara turns to face the crowds of people walking in front of her and ends the call, wiping the tears away off her cheeks. She swallows and feels her heart beating quicker when she hears him drawing closer. There are things she misses that she shouldn't and things she doesn't that she should. Is that what she's clinging to? Memories of a person who is still there with her? The moment he left her…she began searching through all her old journeys with him, frantically looking for the first comforting memories to cling to. Searching for details that she doesn't seem to be able to recall, nor any morsel of information that may have been lost to her subconscious. Why is it that she feels as though her memories of him are fading, a little at a time and that she can feel herself forgetting? She couldn't and she can't. Because he's right here with her.

Reflecting on the thoughts and adventures with him she's had so far, come and go with ease. Yet the thoughts of him, from long before have yet to make their leave. Her memories of Clara travelling with the Doctor still find her because the Doctor still stands in front of her, and yet it is not the Doctor she met and adventured with. Those memories find her here and now, and yet his voice – the voice she is most familiar with is resounding in her mind. Her past with him is so quickly becoming an echo of a past that truly can't be forgotten. While the Doctor she met may be an afterthought…it doesn't mean she has to forget him entirely, right?

'Well?' The Doctor wonders loudly and Clara is startled from her thoughts and hastily wipes the tears away before she turns around to face the Doctor, Rose is standing in the distance. She is nodding her head lightly and a little smile is etched into her face.

'Well, what?' Clara clears her throat and sighs.

'He asked you a question. Will you help me?'

'You shouldn't have been listening.' Clara scolds lightly and pockets her mobile. The Doctor looks away briefly before his gaze returns to hers and Clara is surprised by the conviction in his voice. Rose starts to get closer.

'I wasn't. I didn't need to. That was me talking,' The Doctor tells her and then waits for Clara to say something. When she doesn't he nods his head at her and turns to go back to the TARDIS. He collects Rose along the way, putting his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer for comfort. He gets about half way back before stopping and turning back to Clara. 'You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here…standing in front of you. Please, just…just see me.'

Clara is stunned by the desperation and pleading in his voice and she takes a few tentative steps closer to him. Rose nudges him gently to meet her half way and when they do, Rose holds her breath and waits. Clara presses her lips together and really studies his face, trying to see the familiarity she knows is there but seems to elude her. She believes him. Because he's here with her. And she smiles at him. When she does…he looks so relieved.

'Thank you.'

He frowns and Rose closes her eyes in silent jubilation. 'For what?'

'Phoning.' Clara replies and embraces him tightly. The Doctor looks over to Rose for help but all she does is shake her head, grinning. He turns back to Clara and continues to hold his hands out behind her back.

'I…I don't think I'm a hugging person now.' He protests and Clara merely hugs him tighter in response.

'I'm not sure you get a vote.' Clara answers and Rose starts to laugh. The Doctor sighs at them.

'Whatever you say…'

'This isn't my home, by the way.' Clara informs brightly and the Doctor begins to look around and nods his head in agreement.

'Sorry, I'm sorry about that. I missed.'

Clara ends their hug and begins to look around in confusion. 'Where are we?'

The Doctor rubs the back of his head and shrugs sheepishly. 'Glasgow, I think.'

Clara nods her head in acceptance and smiles at Rose as she decides it's appropriate to join them. 'Ah! You'll fit right in. Scottish.' She attempts her best Scottish accent and to her delight the Doctor smiles before he locks eyes with Rose. Rose gives him a crooked smile.

The Doctor looks around and catches a few people holding coffee cups while chatting away with friends by their sides. Others are sitting outside a bistro eating chips. Maybe that's a good way to get reacquainted with Clara and Rose.

'Right, shall we, er…' The Doctor pauses and shrugs a bit. 'Do you two want to go and get some coffee or…chips or…something, or chips and coffee?'

Rose starts to laugh and nods her head. 'Coffee?'

'Coffee would be great. You're buying!' Clara decides and points to the Doctor. He frowns.

'Oh, if that's the case, then I know a great place! Just opened up a little while back. I've been dying to go.' Rose informs them and they begin down the pavement. Clara falls into step with Rose and the Doctor hurries to catch up to both of them. He quick grabs Rose's wrist and she turns up to him. They exchange a brief look before he lets her go and they continue on as though nothing happened.

'I don't have any money, you know.' The Doctor reminds them and Rose sighs and shakes her head.

'You never do.'

'Okay, well, that means you're fetching, then.' Clara decides and the Doctor leans forward to stare at her with confusion and he begins to refute her statement.

'I'm not sure I'm the fetching sort…'

'Yeah, still not sure you get a vote.' Clara replies and the Doctor smiles at her. This is rather enjoyable. He likes the thought of having coffee with Rose and Clara. What a lovely way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

'Don't worry, I've got it,' Rose tells them and the Doctor looks entirely relieved. 'But this is twice now. Let's go Dutch next time.'

They walk side by side down the pavement and at some point Rose has stopped to take a look at something in a shop window, some sort of bag and Clara pauses to join her as well. He didn't wait to see. By the time they've rejoined him, he seems to have been regulated to the middle. Rose is on his right and Clara on his left. It's rather…comforting to have both of them by his side. He doesn't want to say it out loud but he can't wait for the three of them to get to their next adventure. They did so well together the first time.

And then the world seemed a bit brighter now that everything has been resolved. He likes those two words, the open up a world of possibilities. Like a prelude to something more wonderful. Like when Rose used to leave him notes around the TARDIS when he wasn't expecting them. Little riddles and sayings. He used to love that. And then…that swift and surprising exhilarating transition from nothing to everything. Those two words hold such a world of promise to him.

* * *

And here we go. The start of series 8. Honestly I'm really sorry it took so long. I hit a major writing block for a few months and while I continued to work on original ideas for this story, I couldn't seem to direct any of my writing effort into completing this chapter. And really set the tone where I could be happy with it.

The good news is that I plan to write an original story next. Yay. Ghosts. Ooh. There is going to be so much going on again. Certain characters make their returns, hearts get broken, people get separated and people die. Here comes the feels.

Now I do have a request. I have only seen this episode. Nothing more to series 8 or 9. And since I doubt I'll be able to binge watch everything I was hoping that those who take the time to review, by the way, thank you, but I was hoping you can tell me how the Doctor is in this series. Give me your best take, I'll watch as many as I can but I don't want to be inauthentic to him.

All and all, I hope you like chapter one of an emotional packed take on series 8. Leave a comment or your thoughts. Thanks to all those have stuck it out with me.


	2. The Science of Spiritualism

It's eerie up here on the second level. Her heart is pounding out of her chest. And each time her foot steps on the step to lift herself higher to the landing in her mind she listens harder for sounds of those that also grace them with their presence. Logically her mind says there isn't anything to fear because well, don't be stupid. Ghosts don't exist. Haha, then the true reality sets in and reminds that she has very good reason to be afraid because a ghost had possessed her. Not just a ghost a vengeful spirit. That still, to this day, is still the oddest experience she has ever had. To be filled with nothing but utter contempt for every living thing scared her. To have no control of her thoughts or actions, to have someone picking away at her mind – like a finger scratching on a wall over and over while desperate to learn secrets to be used in a maniacal way.

Ghosts are very real. They've learned that the hard way. And what she didn't understand was the fad that this…this…family perpetuated and sold off parts of the spirit world for gain. Well more of the older sister than the younger ones. While the masses believed it was real, some sceptics believed it was nothing more than parlour tricks – which it was, until that one gathering unleashed hell. And that they were communicating with something innocent until the tainted got involved. Which is what happened here. And now they can't leave because people are in danger. But she is fearful of possession once again. That and of course Katie's words to her earlier as she began to ascend the stairs. Those girls can see things. It's obvious. They are gifted or cursed. But it was Katie's words that scared, unnerved her. And made her wonder what they were getting themselves into.

There had been an argument and the girls had left, scared that what had happened had been their fault. Couldn't be, they were merely the lightening rod, a light in the darkness. And the ghosts were like moths, drawn to it, drawn to a world that they had departed and left behind. Those that clamour for vengeance against the living. There had been so many and those that had used her for a voice. Those that had used the girls for a voice. It wasn't quiet possession. She was just frozen. Whatever or whoever was using her voice to communicate. Another sensation. Her body was sore after. Her voice strained. If there is one thing in the world that makes her uneasy and truly fearful…it's the fact that ghosts are real and very terrifying.

She pauses and looks up to the few stairs left before the landing. She thought she…heard something. Maybe saw something? Is it Maggie? Katie had been hiding in a closet on the main level and said that Maggie ran upstairs. The others had been engaged in an argument and Katie had elected to sit in the foyer, waiting for the appropriate time to go back. Or until Leah forced her to. When Rose had had enough of the petty childish nature of the argument, she had gone into the foyer to spend some time with Katie, who in her opinion seemed to be acting the most adult, was staring up at the ceiling making funny faces. She'd pause and smile. Rose had said nothing to her merely sat by her side and watched. Finally having curiosity get the better of her, Rose turned to her an inquired what she was doing and to whom the funny faces were for.

' _No one,'_ Katie had said. _'I'm mimicking the lady with the braid. Mags and I do that sometimes. She's right there. The beam right there.'_

That had disturbing to her. There hadn't been anyone around them, or anyone from the load-bearing beam. And she remembered wondering if it had been another spirit. Entirely possible but the house had been quiet for nearly an hour. Mimicking a lady with a braid. Perhaps a friendly spirit. That'll be a nice change of pace. She then decided that she didn't want Maggie alone in this house, so she had gotten up and told Katie to be careful. As she had been heading back into the lounge to tell those still in there that she would be looking for Maggie, a morbid thought struck her. That and what Katie had said next.

' _Her braid is around her neck. She's hanging by her braid and making funny faces.'_

She had cautiously looked up to the beam once again. Of course there had been no one there. Not even a shadow against the wall had been visible to corroborate Katie's claims. But what she had said…she had been watching a woman being hanged. And that woman had been gasping for air. Hence the funny faces. It had unnerved her and she had requested that Katie come with her into the lounge, to keep her safe while she had gone on to explore the brownstone and look for Maggie. Safety and strength in numbers. Katie hadn't been happy about it but at least the Doctor had been there to look out for her.

She pauses and listens to the voices down below in the lounge. Arguments. The Doctor attempting to get his point across with Leah insisting there is nothing wrong, that the spirits are entertaining the guests. That's all it is. And to think she turned down an opportunity with Barnum. She just doesn't get how harmful these ghosts can be. Thankfully no one has been hurt. Yet. Just her. Thankfully?

A cold front moves behind her and Rose shivers, turning over her shoulder to see if there is anything there. Nothing. Not that she expected there to be. Even the beam running along the ceiling is silent. Of course. The cold front passes. She can't see her breath anymore. Whatever was behind her is gone now. Still uncomfortable.

When she comes up to the landing she looks once left down the hall and then once right. Silence. Just the soft glow from the gas lamps on the wall that create the shadows that dance on the walls before her and she is met with nothing but the feeling that she isn't quite alone. So she walks over to the nearest lamp and reaches up to the knob on the side, slowly turning and the flame burns brighter. Footsteps are heard running away from her. There is no one there.

God, give her anything else in the universe to deal with. She'll take anything else over this. This isn't something tangible she can overcome, which is the hardest part to accept. While she's relied on her wits before…it's something entirely different. This is part of a world that can't be seen, forces that are extremely dangerous, petty and vindictive. With powers not of this world, how fair is that? Any mission she had been on in the past there had been a small percent chance that she may have not come back from it. Hell, look at the one encounter with the Sontarans. She very nearly died. But dealing with ghosts or spirits or whatever, there is a good to high degree of chance and uncertainty she doesn't like to think about. Like possession or the big one – death. If her experience has taught her anything, ghosts are serious. Imagine if one of them becomes possessed and they can't extrapolate the spirit from the host. Then what? The host could walk out that door and wreak havoc on unsuspecting New Yorkers.

Rose pauses in her steps and inhales sharply. Her heart rate getting quicker. There was childish laughter heard all around her. Almost as though it was running right by her. She could instantly feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up right. It goes cold. But just as quickly as whatever appears…it's gone again. She exhales and continues to walk down the hall towards the room that Katie and Maggie share. Something makes her stop and frown. She tilts her head and continues to hear the invisible footsteps thundering around her. Then it goes silent. She feels as though she's in a staring contest with something invisible standing at the end of the hall. Rose exhales and sees her breath in front of her. She swallows and leans forward.

'Maggie?' She calls softly. There is no reply. Rose rubs her arms and lifts her hand to the wall. She knocks three times on it. She just wants to see what will happen, if anything. It's quiet. Cold and silent. She's about to take another few steps forward when she halts mid step until she hears it. Three knocks are echoing around her. How do you defend yourself against something you can't see? The cold spell abruptly evaporates and it takes her a minute to calm herself down. Is whatever here merely toying with them all?

She continues down the hall to the room at the end, all the while she can't shake the feeling that something is watching her. Or someone. It's unsettling and when she pushes the door open to Maggie and Katie's room she isn't surprised to see it empty.

There are two twin beds against the wall in front of Rose; above the beds are two small windows. The soft glow from the gas lamps outside cast long, dark shadows. The entire atmosphere makes her feel as though she's a small girl again, terrified of monsters in the closet. Thankfully there is no closet in here, just an armoire, stool an vanity.

'Maggie?'

And nothing but silence is her answer. She is about to turn around and leave when she hears some shuffling that appears to be coming from the armoire. Well that's a good place for one to hide. Rose walks towards the armoire, past the vanity mirror. As she passes the mirror, Rose misses the figure looming in the doorway. It evaporates into nothing.

When she stops in front of the armoire, she listens as the shuffling continues and Rose secures a grip on the door handles and pulls the doors open. Nothing but clothes on hangers. Rose sighs. Okay maybe not. Laughter over her shoulder and Rose turns around only to be greeted by an empty room. She turns her attention back to the armoire, and notices high boots that looks as though they may be attached to someone. Finally. She is probably just scared and so Rose parts the clothing in the middle. She frowns. Nothing in front of her but the back of the armoire and a pair of empty boots are there. She sighs and drops her hands to her sides. Great, now what?

Rose turns around and surveys the room one more time. The beds have no impression on them, which tells Rose that if Maggie did come in here; she didn't sit on either bed. So where did she go? All of the other doors that line the hallway were closed but that doesn't mean Maggie didn't duck into the first one she set her eye on.

She doesn't notice the hands that appear behind her. Rose is about to move towards the door when the hand secures itself around her mouth and another around her waist. It yanks her back into the armoire before she has a chance to scream or yell. The doors slam shut once she's in and there is nothing but silence. A clock ticks on the bedside table between the heads of the beds. Moments later a hand reaches out from under the bed and someone begins to crawl out. After shimming out, Maggie gets into a standing position and looks around the empty bedroom.

'Rose?' Maggie whispers but the only answer she receives in a thunderous knock and she lets out a squeak of surprise, bolting for the door and running down the hall to the stairs. The mirror hanging in hallway by the stairs cracks as the figures evaporate.

Back in the bedroom the clock continues to tick. It stops once it strikes 3.15. The silence is deafening.

 _Earlier…_

* * *

The humming had gently lulled her to sleep when she finally had a moment to sit on her bed and breathe a sigh of relief, and she had been having such a wonderful dream. She didn't know what she dreamt of him but she did and it had been welcoming. She had decompressed when she sat down, and then had found it immensely difficult to sit up again. She had glanced down to the pile of clothing in her hands and then to the pile that had remained on the floor. Since she had no energy to do anything at the moment, she tossed the clothing to the floor, having had no desire to sort, fold and hang it up. And once her head had hit the pillow, she felt immensely tired and had allowed her mind to wander over the events of the last several hours. Even when she had been thinking about it, she had felt her face grow hot under their blunder.

While on their way to her mate's coffee bar, she had noticed that both Clara and the Doctor seemed to be browsing around the shops windows. The Doctor had enthusiastically called them over but Clara had been immersed with another shop that had been selling bags. She had missed the call, but Rose had recalled telling Clara to meet them at the shop window. What she hadn't seen, apparently, was Clara going into the shop. By the time Rose had reached the Doctor he had been fishing around for her hand, and not having found it, he merely pointed to the window of some shop that sold antiques. Which also doubled as an auction house. The Doctor was pointing to a table that had four aged, yellowed sheets of paper displayed on it. He had a look of awe on his face and she had been less than impressed.

' _Yeah? What about it?'_ She had wondered and he had stared at her as though she had three eyes.

' _Don't you know what that is?'_

' _If I did I would not be asking, would I?'_ She had smirked at him and he had looked away quickly.

' _A fair point,'_ He had conceded and placed his arm around her shoulder to draw her closer. A sentiment that had surprised her but she hadn't commented on it. _'See, Rose, that right there is Margaret Fox's confession to how she managed 'summon' spirits. She has effectively confirmed that as a Spiritualist, she was a fraud. Ruining her career, her sister Katie's and put an end to older sister Leah managing them. It was damning. A year later, she attempted to recant the confession.'_

' _Who were they?_ ' She had questioned. The name hadn't rung any bells within her mind.

' _Rose! The Fox Sisters were some of the most famous Spiritualists in all of New York. They really helped advance the field. Then the confession came out, then the recantation. They were ruined after the confession, and even though they were quite wealthy thanks to overbearing sister Leah managing their careers, and after Leah died, both Maggie and Katie died in abject poverty. All within five years of one another. It's astounding that someone has managed to get a copy of this confession. And the fact that after Maggie's confession, Spiritualism survived.'_ The Doctor explained. Rose had stood on her toes to see if she could manage to catch a glimpse of the words scrawled on the paper. But the writing of course had been so flowery that it had been near impossible to make out.

' _Doctor, these girls…they didn't really summon ghosts, did they?'_ She had questioned because, really, that's quite a real possibility, especially if these girls are playing with fire and are unaware how badly they can get burned. As they had learned so long ago, ghosts or spirits are incredibly dangerous. It worried her that they could potentially release something into the world without knowledge of it. She had been concerned with it and had fully expected the Doctor to brush away her claims as nothing more than absurdity.

' _Uh…not to my knowledge. No, no,'_ He had said but Rose hadn't been instilled with confidence. And he must have sensed that from her look. _'Uh, not that. Hm. I'm not sure.'_

' _Should we check?'_ She had offered and he looked at her with a masked delight in his eyes. It had warmed her heart that he had begun to look at her like that. Truly she loved it. Hopefully she had believed that this was them growing comfortable in one another's presence. There will still be awkwardness, she had expected that, and it isn't as though she will follow him to bed. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And that's the part of her that was still devastated. And that part of her that she had to ignore until the moment was right for them. If it ever was. And if not…well then she had better start telling herself that that was a possibility. And to get the hell over it.

' _Yes, I would like to check. Even though I think it should be fine.'_ The Doctor had told her and Rose folds her arms and looks up to him.

' _Okay, then we won't. If you can tell me entirely for certain that little girls are not summoning ghosts.'_ She had countered, and she had known that using reverse psychology on him would work. It always did. And he had eyed her. Dare to challenge me, his look had told her. She had arched her eyebrow and waited for him to cave.

' _Do you feel like going for another adventure? So soon?'_

' _Always.'_

And that had been that. They had sealed their decision with a smirk and then she had taken his hand tightly in her own. They had made a dash towards the TARDIS, the heaviness from the emotional exchange between himself, she and Clara but a distant memory now. Because now they have an opportunity to enjoy this moment themselves and how could they not? It excited her. She felt a thrill grow within her. This is it, she had believed deep down. They are going to pick up right where they had left off.

It hadn't been until they were already whipping through the vortex that she had leapt off the rails with eyes wide, hands covering her mouth. He had stared at her, wondering what could possibly be troubling her? So she had planted her fists on her hips and inquired as to whether or not he had been aware that they had just left Clara stranded in Glasgow, with no way home. Her face had been red she had been so mortified and she had demanded they go back to get her home safely.

But they had been drifting lazily in the Vortex for some time now. He had wanted to just…be, give himself time to get reacquainted with his TARDIS. However, she hadn't cared, they had just left Clara alone. How terrible were they?! How were they going to explain to Clara that they had ditched her on a whim all due to the subject of their conversation? She's going to turn around and there's going to be no one there in that square. She had been entirely mortified. And she still is. She can't even begin to imagine what had been going through Clara's mind when she had been looking for them. Absolutely mortified.

Rose rolls onto her side, facing the pile of clothing that still lies in the middle of her floor. She'll have to deal with that sooner rather than later. But she was glad to have started the process. But she closes her eyes a bit and yawns. To better direct her mortification and frustration, she had decided to begin the migration process of gathering all her belongings – clothing, trinkets and books or whatever, from his room back to her own. Of course she had had a lot of things. And when he had come looking for her, wondering if she had run away because she had been angry with him. And then he had seen her mid act, stared at her intensely; he had been confused as to why she had had her things in her arms, a book balancing on her head while they had succumbed to an awkward silence. She had remembered pleading with whatever or whoever was out there not to let this happen.

' _Moving somewhere?_ ' He had wondered. There hadn't been any malice or anything like that to his voice, just…genuine confusion and wonder. As if he had wanted to question her decision but hadn't been sure he had the authority to do so.

' _Well, yeah,'_ She had replied and frowned when he moved towards her and took the book off her head. He leafed through it and had smiled at her. He placed it carefully atop her head. _'Why? You don't think it'd be…odd if I stayed here?'_

' _I don't know what I think anymore. I don't know anything about us…in the sense of how we proceed from here on in. I know…_ all _about us.'_ He had clarified and she had turned away from him, partially in truth because she had no idea how to answer him. And his response to her had caused her to blush, she hadn't wanted him to see that especially not since they are attempting to still work out their awkwardness in their brand new relationship.

She hadn't said more, opting instead to give him a light shrug as she had walked from the room. What else had been required to be said to him? She hadn't thought there needed to be, so she had gone to her room and tossed the clothing onto the floor, and returned to his room to gather another load of clothing. Upon her return, Rose had sat on the bed and hadn't realised she had fallen asleep briefly before starling herself awake. She hadn't wanted to deal with the menial task of organising and folding. In addition to the fact that she had been exhausted from her time in Victorian London once she had sat on the bed…that had been all. She had passed out. And dreamt of him. Truly she hadn't known why she did. It was a memory in the form of a dream. Of them around their first Christmastime and New Years. It made her wonder if that had been because of the Christmas tree poised so beautifully in the lounge of the widow's home she'd broken into. She had stared at it and allowed her mind a chance to wander, of all the Christmases she had been privy to enjoy in her life.

Perhaps that had prompted her dream memory. She must be an internal mess of emotions and heartache that she refuses to acknowledge herself. There are so many variables that exist in her life at the moment and in her past, what she used to do to escape it was to run. Run to the past. She could still do that, but it doesn't seem right to do so.

Sentimentality has been stalking her lately. Or has it? Has she become a more sentimental person? No, no she must have gotten worse over the course of her life. When did it start? Bergen? Had to have. Because ever since then she's gotten attached and sentimental of things. Books, belongings, places but especially of other people. What scares her is that it hasn't seemed to matter whether or not the experience was positive or negative. If it had been meaningful to her in her life, she has trouble letting it go.

She stares up at the ceiling and sighs before she reaches over to her night stand and collects her mobile. She unlocks it and pulls up her photos, scrolling to the only photo she had managed to take of him with modern technology. A summer retreat to the Hamptons, their yearly vacation.

She sits in the lounge chair and he between her legs slightly reclined, one arm wrapped around her leg as his attention is drawn away from her, he's staring at something. God, what a picture. She can remember his touch on her bare leg and instinctively reaches down to her right leg to touch where he had. She's gotta deal with her emotions surroundings this issue. Maybe she needs a therapist. Maybe. She's got a lot of baggage. And that's the first step, yeah? Admitting it?

To new beginnings, she supposes. What are they even waiting for again? Where were they going? Oh right, to see the Fox Sisters. Harmless fun, yeah? Too bad her eyes close once again before she can even begin to think about the history of Spiritualism she's fallen asleep. The memories come to her once more and make her long for something real and tangible to hold onto in a time of uncertainty. Maybe she wishes it truly were Christmas time…that'd make her feel better, wouldn't it? There had been many times when she had been left alone after they'd been separated, she alone lying in bed, wondering how she was going to get through another lover lost to circumstances. There had been a time when she actually got up and grabbed a notebook to write her thoughts down in. To write to him. To leave him a note that he could find. To write to him in a time where she could find him.

Long before the tears that tore at them when their history was sprawled before them.

* * *

' _Are you sure you wanted to leave early? It's not even midnight.'_

' _Before Times Square empties and the hoards of people spill back out onto the streets? Yes.' Comes his sardonic reply. She playfully rolls her eyes before she answers him._

' _We could have waited an hour or so after before we left.'_

' _I didn't want to stay that long.'_

' _Really? Why not?'_

' _I haven't seen you in a week.' His answer is simple and it makes her smile but it disappears quickly, only to be replaced with another eye roll._

' _And? It was your idea to go to this party.'_

' _I was saving face.'_

' _Ahh, now the truth comes out. I hope you didn't use me as an excuse.'_

' _And if I did?'_

' _I have no response to that.'_

' _I don't think it merits one.'_

 _She smiles and links her arm with his, pressing herself closer to him and because it's cold. The Waldorf had been the closest point from where their party had been. They had been able to skirt around the mess at Times Square, but they had been keen to avoid the cops that managed the area. He laces his fingers with hers and Rose glances up to Charlie with a smile._

 _Their first Christmas together had been exhilarating, the amount of new people in his circle she had met at Carlo and Cat's place stunned her. Especially at how normal they appeared to be. Normalcy and the mundane ruled them when they were in a collective group. Truly they were people through and through who just happened to lead a double life in a sense. Had she met those people on the streets, they gave off no indication to her when they had spoke that they were a part of the underworld with Charlie. Well, maybe Albert. And Vito. With those two you could tell there was a sinister side that is close to the surface, but not with Frank. Frank Costello is a man who has connections everywhere. She thinks he believes that he's more of a…politician than a gangster. That may just come in handy in the future. Especially at the Senate Committee in the 50s. But aside from that, she truly enjoyed speaking with him. As odd as it is, they are all very interesting people to talk with. They're all whip smart, be it business realm or with an insult. She had had an amazing night that Christmas and a very enjoyable night in the city at Albert's. Plus, she had finally had a chance to speak to Elsa – the poor thing is usually surrounded by the wives or girlfriends of the others. A seeing as they are such a judgmental bunch of women, she had typically stayed close to Cat, because they got along so well. However, Elsa was a sweet girl, smart as well. While the other women believed that Elsa was interested in fashion and things like that – as she was always remarkably dressed, Elsa liked talking about politics and current affairs. At the party they'd just left, she and Elsa had been conversing about some issue – she can't remember what exactly her head's a bit fuzzy, when she had observed Albert on his way over and the moment he stopped in front of them, their conversation went from policies designed to lighten the burden of those affect by the Depression, to fashion. It had been such a quick change that Rose had been taken off guard. They bluffed their way through that conversation a bit before he left and she had breathed a sigh of relief. Albert didn't really like when she had opinions about things that weren't 'feminine.' And it reminded that this era sucked a bit._

 _She doesn't know how long she or Charlie are going to be together. She hopes it's for a long time. Something about him draws her to him. He's a lot of firsts for her in a time she hadn't remembered feeling for so long. The little gestures, how he'd look at her and smile or surprise her with little things. Sometimes it was flowers. She inwardly smiled at his explanation of how he'd given her nearly every flower available, but never roses. Why, he'd questioned her, would he want to give her roses? He already had one. He had grinned and she laughed at his stupid joke, for which he apologised for, but he hadn't wanted to pass up the opportunity._

 _Even when she'd come back from a particularly awful day at work, whatever she was doing, she'd walk through whatever door that day, find him doing whatever, sometimes it was smoking and reading the paper or having a drink out on the balcony and she'd embrace him tightly. After enough silence between them snogging, she'd sigh._

'I've had an ugly day,' _She would declare more often than not._ 'Tell me something beautiful.'

 _He would turn her to face him, tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear and kiss her lightly but with more meaning than ever. All he'd say to her was her name. Her face would burn from embarrassment. He'd give her a crooked grin and she'd pull him down to her lips by his tie and their night would always be finished in the bedroom._

 _And yet the battle in her mind never stopped. From their first night together. The battle raged on. It especially caused her to doubt herself when a woman sought her out while she had been walking the streets to the Chelsea one afternoon. She had no idea who that woman was but she seemed to know who she was and that she and Charlie were an item._

Darling, don't be fooled by his charm. He doesn't know how to love.

 _She took those words to heart for a long time. And perhaps by that woman's comment she steeled herself slightly, learned to talk less and listen more. To observe and truly question his motives. Light is easy to love, she almost dared him a few times to show her his darkness. He was a man who had flings and nothing truly substantial in his life. He could be with one main woman and then have others on the side. That's what men did. Because they could. Women put up with it. Because they had to. Not her, no sir. But if you didn't have trust in a relationship then what did you have? Nothing._

 _So she asked him one day. Do I make you happy? She did. Am I the only one? She was. Do you love me? He did. Why? Because he fell in love with her because of a million little things she never knew she did. It wasn't just about the physical attraction, he said to her. It wasn't just about the sex either. Which isn't to say the sex wasn't utterly fucking incredible, because it was. But he truly felt they had a connection. When someone feels so strong for another person, a simple kiss is enough to make one weak at the knees. You can't fucking beat that._

 _It certainly silenced that noisy woman's warning. It didn't stop the morality issue in her mind but it quieted things down for a bit. It also meant that they were truly a couple. And that they sometimes fought. It just felt so odd to be in a relationship where they fought. And that's normal. Well, not entirely normal. They shout a lot. She slams her hands down on surfaces and he breaks things some times. But what had set their fights apart from other spats she's had with her significant others is when the fire in them dies down. They will be on opposite sides of a room and glare at one another, with closed off confrontational stances. Inevitably, one of them will drop the façade and smile. With that the storm had passed and they move on. She could get used to this relationship._

 _So she grips his hand a little tighter and he stops, leaning in to give her a kiss. She pulls away but Charlie holds her close._

' _Wait a minute. Listen.'_

 _Rose arches her eyebrow with a smirk and turns her gaze to the empty streets. She begins to hear it and she grins._

' _Three! Two! One!'_

 _Cheers, shouts and hollers erupt in the distance, at Times Square. Midnight has come. It's officially 1931. He pulls her closer and Rose wraps her arms around his neck as she presses her forehead with his. He kisses her first, slow a first but she presses herself tighter to him and they begin kissing one another harder. She finally has to pull away to drink in the air. He takes her hand and they begin walking with haste towards the Waldorf._

 _Rose holds tight and tugs at his hand. He turns back to her and she beckons him closer. She smiles at him as she places another light kiss on his lips. 'Happy New Year.'_

 _Charlie pulls her closer and secures an arm around her waist, keeping her tight to him so he can kiss her back. Harder. 'Here's to whatever comes our way in 1931,' He tells her seriously when pulls away. God, she can get drunk off that kiss. She doesn't reply, instead nodding her agreement. 'Now, let's get the fuck outta here before chaos spills out.'_

 _If it's true what history says about 1931, it'll be anything but quiet. Be that as it may…they'll face it together._

* * *

'Rose, I didn't know if these were yours or not. So I brought the books over just in case. Rose…?' The Doctor walks into her room without knocking, carrying a stack of books and a bunch of her formal dresses draped over his arm. He looks up from her array of coloured formal dresses to the rest of the room when he doesn't receive a response.

He immediately regrets his loud voice when he notices that Rose has passed out on her bed, amidst the clothing in a clump at the foot of the bed. She's curled into herself, barely making noise as she inhales and exhales peacefully. Could he truly blame her for wanting peace and quiet? She's been pushing herself for so long, probably best to slow the TARDIS down and give her ample time to recover. He might just do that without hesitation. It'd be better for her anyway.

He sets the books down on the floor beside the wingback chair and goes over to her closet, carefully removing each dress off his arm and selecting a hanger for it to go on. Each dress he remembers her wearing, what they were doing and when. Like this beautiful amethyst coloured one. Dinner in Monaco in 1950, of course this was years ago, he was a younger man back then wearing a very different face. Small things he remembers, the heat of the room and the way the candlelight at their table made her eyes burn brightly. They shone and cut right through him.

How can it be that she's changed so much, he wonders, still hanging up her dresses. Or has she always remained the same and it's him that has changed? Or maybe neither of them have it is the circumstances around them. Perhaps that's the real thing that's changed, their circumstances and so they've merely had to adapt to it. It has to be that because fundamentally, she's the same as she's ever been. She just has a lot more skills to her now. Whether that was because of him or not…there isn't a point to dwell on it. She can flip a switch and once that switch has been activated in someone…it's very hard to disconnect it.

He hangs up the final dress and turns back to the wingback chair and reaches for the blanket she's tossed over there. It's hard to start from the beginning again, he decides as he walks towards her bed and carefully drapes it over her. It's almost as though they hit a certain point in their relationship or the road or whatever and something pushes the rewind button. Back they go, to find out how things between them will work. And usually their fears are unfounded. Because he's still himself and she's still Rose. And it works, they _make_ it work.

But…this time…this has been the only time he's truly been worried about this push back to the beginning. Things between them have evolved into something so much better, more than he ever thought was possible with someone he brought on board. Truly he loved her and they had, in the past, expressed their love of one another physically. He revelled in the fact that they had been able to achieve that and this…new…well new everything concerned him. Maybe that physical attraction wouldn't be there anymore.

Which is fine, he supposes, you can't force anyone to do or feel or be anything they're not. He isn't worried, okay, well maybe he is a little bit. He knows they get on well, their physically expression of their love was always a bonus to him. He knows deep down that they can move on from that. Their relationship is not based solely on that fact. But…it was nice.

Is that the anxiety he's feeling? Well now, that's something he hasn't feel in awhile. Or has he? Huh. There are just some things he wants answers to, and the waiting is gruelling. And yet this is not something that can be rushed, can it? To do so would mean potentially exposing stress fractures in their relationship that are visible but that won't deepen. Unless prodded enough, but they don't need to go there again.

He pauses in her doorway and watches her for a moment over the lump of clothing that she'll have to deal with eventually. He smiles to himself slightly and turns to leave, leaving the door slightly ajar as he heads towards the library. What is coming for them, in whatever sense that means, surely will be better than what is gone.

* * *

'Ew, yuck. What's that smell?'

'Margaret! That's terribly unbecoming. A lady should refrain from criticising.'

'But Maggie's right, Leah. Something smells awful.'

'Catherine. Get your hands out of that basket.'

'I'm only trying to find out what smells so awful.'

'That basket was a gift from Mrs Pritchard for our readings the other-…'

'Oh, look I found it!'

'Ew, Katie, look, it's the cheese! Go on, smell it!'

'I don't want to, Mags.'

'Girls! Please…' Leah scolds and swoops in to take the cheese wrapped in cloth and brings it to the counter and out of view from the girls. She pauses at the counter to listen to their ramblings of freshly made jam which soon dissolves into a petty argument. 'Girls! I'm sure there will be enough jam to sate everyone, please stop pawing through the basket. You know that our supporters send those to us with the best intentions. I'll not have you ruin the presentation before I have time to itemise everything.'

'There's money in that one. I found it hidden under the scones…' Maggie informs them and when Leah turns to face her, her gaze drops to the scone that Maggie has in her hand, which she quickly hides behind her back.

'Did you take any of the money, Margaret?'

'No Leah…' Maggie responds between mouthfuls of scone.

'Not a penny?' Leah presses and Maggie shakes her head once more. Satisfied that she's telling the truth, Leah smiles a tight smile. One that Katie and Maggie find uncomfortable. When Leah smiles it always makes them dread what is about to be said. 'Good. Now then, girls, please go on upstairs while I finish up with the generous donations gifted to us. Get yourselves prepared. We have another sitting tonight at seven thirty, sharp.'

'Must we, Leah?' Katie groans and accepts the half eaten scone from Maggie when she holds her hand out. She is about to take a bite when she observes Leah's sharp glare and Katie drops her gaze to the ground.

'I believe you know the answer to that question, Catherine. We have a reputation to uphold. There are others that claim to talk to spirits as well, but they lack experience and professionalism. We also do not charge for our sit downs.'

Katie frowns. 'But people pay us.'

'Those are donations, tokens of appreciation. Same as the food or anything else we are fortunate enough to get.' Leah explains and decides not to burden the girls with the fact that it's the monetary donations that help keep them in this small but efficient brownstone. To help pay for the help they've hired. Well, that she's hired so she can dedicate more time to managing the girls' careers.

'What's the difference?' Maggie wonders flatly and Leah points to the stairs. Maggie can tell she's instantly crossed a line and wordlessly the girls file out of the kitchen and up the stairs to prepare for this evening's sit down. She can hear them grumbling up the stairs, wondering to each other when this spectacle will cease and when they'll be left alone.

Maggie should know better, sarcasm is not becoming for a young lady of seventeen and if she is not careful, fourteen-year-old Katie will pick up on that and believe that that is how a lady should act. Leah doesn't understand why Maggie's hostility is coming from. After all the girls, especially Maggie, should be thanking her for her careful management of their 'gifts.' It has allowed them to move from that bland, empty home back in upstate New York, to Rochester. If she hadn't taken the girls along with her, they'd be rotting in Hydesville of boredom, their only stimulation was the tricks they would be playing on the family. Or, if not careful, the girls could have been condemned to live out the rest of their lives in an asylum if they confessed to the wrong people. And even then securing a release for them should they have recanted would be immensely difficult.

Leah stares out of the little kitchen window to the hustle in the streets, carriages passing along in seamless fashion, oh how she had truly missed this scenery when she had been back in Hydesville. It had been too quiet, the air too fresh. No, this is where she belonged. With or without that dreadful ex-husband of hers, Bowman Fish. Now, where was her advice on not marrying that brute? She is determined not to allow her sisters to fall to the same vices she had, she is resolved to be their guiding force.

And since their mother isn't with them anyway, she's had to take on the motherly role for them. Which apparently included attitude from Margaret. That just meant she had to work harder to ensure those girls turned into proper women of society. Perhaps set them up for a decent marriage. So they would never have to live in abject poverty like they had in Hydesville. Truly Leah hadn't minded taking on that motherly role, she only has Lizzie and has always wanted more children. She's been so used to helping them when their father up and vanished for those extremely long years. Only to reappear as though nothing was wrong? He offered no explanation and didn't seem to realise how hard his absence had been on them all, but especially her because she was so close to him. Leah sighs and goes about unpacking the rest of the gifts that had been left by their appreciative clientele. It will do no good bringing up the past. Even if nothing was ever explained to them. She brings the goods to the counter to itemise. Leah often wondered if her father's drinking habits caused her mother to tell him to leave until he fixed it. No, she couldn't think like that. Her mother had been just as stunned as the rest of them. But the moment he had walked through that door, it was though all the pain, hurt and confusion melted away. And they were a family once again. Life went on.

Until the girls began their trickery. Whether what they had done back home was out of boredom or cruelty, Leah never managed to extract that information from the girls. Perhaps they knew that the house they lived in had a reputation around their community for being a little 'off.' Haunted was the word. But Leah also didn't fail to notice that after the girls had that uncomfortable run in with a local peddler that everyone knew and who also mysteriously vanished one day, that the rappings began. Coincidence? Hard to say. People in town believed mightily that someone had been possibly murdered on the property and that maybe the peddler who disappeared was the one who died under mysterious circumstances. Though her brother and father never found anyone on the property. Or if they did they never mentioned it.

Perhaps the girls merely got caught up in the sensation of the events unfolding before them. They acted out their discomfort and stress by the mysterious noises that began to fill the house around March. Sometimes it sounded like someone was knocking on the door, other times it sounded like someone was moving furniture. Of course it was disturbing and no one knew what to make of the noises. Those noises caused a lot of undue stress and fear amongst their family. No one suspected the girls because they were so young. Fifteen and twelve respectively. Their mother often confided in Leah that the stress had begun to wreak havoc on her. She wasn't sleeping because she was listening for the noises, and when she heard them she was down on her knees praying for a solution, for a remedy. God, she said, never heard her prayers. Her mother's curt responses and actions were hard for Leah to watch. She often elected to take on a larger portion of the housework so her mother could have a few hours of rest during the day. It helped, but only slightly.

Leah often wonders if the girls had heard their mother's confessions to her in the kitchen because it seemed that for a few nights the activity subsided. Allowing everyone to have a much needed rest. Until it abruptly began again in earnest. Scrapping and thumping, knocking and rattling…it was all there. Only louder than before.

Having reached their breaking point, and unsure of how to proceed, Katie offered to challenge the noisemaker to a conversation. Initially sceptic, everyone reluctantly agreed. Morbid curiosity, more like it.

Katie and Maggie had gathered everyone into their living room and explained to them that they were going to challenge the presumed spirit to a conversation, to explain what it wanted. Of course as Leah later learned, there was no 'it' that it was simply the girls. Their dedication to their act truly had everyone believing it. She remembered her mother gasping and blessing herself when Katie demanded that the supposed spirit repeat the snap of her fingers. Dutifully it did. And their mother believed that when the girls began addressing the spirit as Mr Splitfoot that they had been cursed and manipulated by the devil. That they were bound for eternal damnation. What other explanation could there be? Someone from the family must have been tempted by the devil. So when Leah saw their mother's hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring at Katie…she knew her mother believed that the girls had been tempted. And that their souls had been compromised. Never did their mother vocalise her thoughts, but Leah saw it in her red rimmed eyes.

It didn't take long before these conversations had become an every night occurrence. Everyone almost looked forward to it. Katie would demand more and more from the spirit. Repeating the snaps of her fingers, to rapping out the age of each of the girls. Of course with success. They were quite good at their timings of each rap and when Maggie point to herself and then to Katie, well Leah remembers the shock and awe, perhaps even fear of why they appeared to be chosen to experience these…occurrences. The conclusion of which seemed to happen on the final in March. Their mother wanted more people in the room when the girls performed their trickery to ensure that they were not…what's a good way to phrase that? Hm. So that others invited could confirm their lucidity. Three different sets of neighbours were called in. And unbeknownst to them, Maggie and Katie had developed a code for the raps, which could signify a yes or no in response to a questioned asked. From whomever.

And then the story to go along with it. Using each other to bounce ideas off of, or maybe they had rehearsed it at some point, the girls began to claim that the entity, the black cloud that hung above their heads had a name. And that Mr Splitfoot was no long correct. The entity wished to be addressed as Charles B Rosna. After that declaration, the murmurs began, and the girls hadn't been able to get the attention because to them the adults had been whispering amongst themselves, Leah had resigned herself to the corner, watching the adults interact with each other and the impatient looks that Katie and Maggie had exchanged with one another. Everyone jumped when the thunderous rapping caused some to gasp and others to cry out.

The girls declared that the spirit wasn't done speaking to them. Everyone had gotten to the edge of their seats, terrified and curious as to what would be said next.

The girls said that the 'entity' in their presence now was murdered. And that Charles B Rosna used to be peddler in his mortal life, selling trinkets to people he would meet as he roamed the backwoods of this little Hamlet. He had been all over Arcadia. The stories he could have told them, the girls said. He said he had mirrors of polished pewter and combs of polished mother of pearl for women he'd meet. Sometimes if the entity was lucky, he'd find wild flowers in the woods and as a token of good will he'd give them to women who would come out of the general stores. Flattered they would be, the girls told them.

Until one day when he had attempted to stop a beastly man from hurting a poor young lady. The man brutally shoved him to the ground, where he had banged his head on the curb. That was Rosna's last memory. Now he was angry that his good deed left him dead, so said the girls.

The adults murmured once again amongst themselves and wondered if they were being punished and what it would take to have this spirit leave. Leah remained sceptical. Something didn't add up. Katie and Maggie were close and only often kept one another's company. She believed they were taking cues from one another, they had to have been faking or lying about certain parts. Until the girls said that Rosna claimed his body had been buried on their property in the cellar walls. Well, hadn't that sparked a frenzy.

Her mother and father, the neighbours became convinced that there had been a murder committed at their house. What else could it be? They went over the whole surrounding country trying to get the names of people who had formerly lived in the house. Finally, they had found a man by the name of Bell, and they said that this poor innocent man had committed a murder in the house and that the noises had come from the spirit of the murdered person. Poor Bell was shunned and looked upon by the whole community as a murderer, he wasn't vindicated because of the girls. But then whose bones were buried in the cellar? When her father and brother David began digging in that cellar, only trace amounts of bones had been discovered. Nothing more, and nothing to indicate to them those bones had belonged to a human.

What to do, then? What could they have done to keep the family safe? Their mother had appeared to be utterly convinced that whatever was in the house had attached itself to the girls because they were young and innocent. They were perfect prey. To her mother. Leah hadn't thought that way. There had been more to these occurrences, she was certain of it.

Even when Leah had gone back to Rochester, her mother had continued to write to her saying that the rappings continued in earnest. However, everyone had grown complacent with it, that it just had become part of every day life. Her mother begged her to come back for another visit. So Leah had, even though she hated coming back home. Loathed it even. But her family had needed her and so she had gone back, sad that she had to leave Lizzie home in Rochester. And then her mother had surprised her by commenting that she wanted the girls to go back to Rochester with her. To see if the activity would cease. Leah could hear the desperation in her mother's voice, hoping that the rappings would stop and the girls would be safe.

Leah thought of a better idea, to have the girls be separated, away from one another's influences. That way they could see if things or patterns would be altered. Katie went to Rochester with herself once Leah determined she could no longer stand to be in Hydesville any longer and Maggie went home with their brother David. Even he hadn't been able to make sense of all this nonsense. There had been no reprieve at either house. Rappings continued. However, Leah suspected the girls were writing to one another and developing some sort of trickery through their exchanges. She supposes that's what made her write to their mother offering to stop the oddity from occurring further. And so Maggie came to Rochester as well.

She had allowed the girls to get comfortable in their new surroundings, she had taken them out all around Rochester, the girls had been so enamored with it. And she had to scold them repeatedly on how to conduct themselves appropriately. Not to get involved with the beggars in the streets nor stare at their deformities or ailments. To avoid stepping in the filth and to pass by those pushy vendors on street corners. Until they had stopped at a park and sat on the closest bench. The girls had been enjoying a small snack – still giddy about their living arrangements - before returning home. She may have slightly ambushed them.

She had wanted the truth and nothing but. What had they done back home and at David's. How much of it was true and how much was false. At first the girls had played innocent. They hadn't known what trickery she had meant, they had been surprised by the noises as well and why the spirit had seemed to gravitate towards them. They were innocent! And that had caused Leah to laugh at them. She had told them that if they had confessed now, it would be fine. No one would get into trouble, she had simply wanted the truth. Oh how she had gotten it.

The girls confessed to her that the ruse had been born out of sheer boredom. Their tricks had only meant to elicit nervousness, nothing more. Just to have a bit of fun. They would tie an apple to a strand of string and let the apple fall. The resulting noise would account for some of the knocks and rappings. The girls had even revealed that their father suspected it was them but their mother had discredited him with the revelation that the girls had been too young.

When the apple had worn out its use, the girls moved on to joint cracking. Specifically, their toes. Leah had stared at them fascinated. But what they had said after did get her a bit concerned. Katie had said that sometimes they don't have to do anything, sometimes the knocking and rappings happen all on their own. That there have been occasions when they had seen apparitions, spirits, whatever, standing menacingly in the room. They would often be staring at the girls and that sometimes they had seen the spirits move towards them. Leah had stared at them in wonder. How could any of this be true.

The girls had seen the women, the men…some of them had been sad, others angry and still others had appeared to be confused. Katie had gotten quiet and merely mentioned the name Violet. Even Maggie had looked away. The spirit of Violet had visited the girls once when they had summoned the spirit. Violet had reappeared later after the girls had been ordered to bed. She had been talking to the girls, asking if they knew where she was, how she had gotten there and if they had seen her mother. And when they had said they hadn't Violet had started to wail. The girls said they hadn't slept a wink that night. Violet had been inconsolable. Katie remarked that they probably shouldn't have told her she had died.

Their confession had sparked the ideas and experiments that had allowed the girls to hone in on their abilities. And if they had the potential to get into trouble, they had the toe cracking or joint cracking to fall back on. Leah had thanked them for confessing their ways, because she had all kinds of ideas that would help them become successful. But they had needed more practice. So when they had gotten home, Leah had sent them upstairs to recount everything that had happened in terms of their initial contact with any spirits over the course of the last few months and years if applicable. Leah had wanted as much research as possible so that she could all she could to make sure that they were to be successful. Which, thanks to her efforts, they had been.

Leah made sure the girls recorded after each sitting whether or not they had been visited by real spirits or if they had to rely on their own methods. Each time it had been half and half. Leah attempted to pick up a pattern. But hadn't been able to discover one. To this day she still pours over that material.

Once their good friends Amy and Isaac Post became their guests, Leah had tempted them with the offer of having Amy be contacted by her dearly departed children, they had invited them to their house in Rochester. There had been pleasant chatting before Amy insisted they get to speak to her children. The girls later told her that Amy's children did indeed make an appearance and that any time the piano keys began to be struck, that was them. Amy had cried. She had believed her children were there with her because her daughter had just started to learn the piano. And she had played her exercises. Amy had declared their skills invaluable. And she would repay their kindness.

After that initial visit with the Posts, word had spread. Like wild fire. In their radical Quaker group, Amy had talked immensely about their talents. Leah hadn't understood their radicalism. Amy and Isaac believed in abolition, temperance and the equal rights of women. While their views in the political sphere – which Leah believed no woman should be – she appreciated Amy and Isaac's support. Their friends came in droves, waiting to been seen by the girls. It had been overwhelming at first, but she had told the girls not to worry about it. That she would take over the management duties and logistical issues that they might face. All they had to do was do what their guests asked. They were payed in baked goods, money, clothing, services, milk deliveries whatever they needed. Dutifully the girls went along.

The connections they had been gaining was quickly due to their agreeance of giving public séances, as Leah coined. They had the pleasure of gaining quite a few admirers.

Last year, 1849, they had caught their big break. Leah coordinated a public séance as a demonstration of the girls' ability for minimal charge. Their introduction to the public. They had held a demonstration at Corinthian Hall in Rochester. It had been a massive success and the girls had been in demand ever since. People such as Willian Cullen Bryant, George Bancroft, Nathaniel Parker Willis, Horace Greeley and Sojourner Truth all emerged as supporters against those who claimed to have their gift as well, but who had failed miserably. They were pioneering this Spiritualistic field. And she couldn't help but feel mightily accomplished for all her hard work. In all aspects of her life.

Her scrupulous scrimping had allowed Lizzie to go to a moderately well to do school and take French lessons, which she adored. She had successfully managed her sisters in their emerging careers as successful mediums and was keeping a roof over their heads and in moderate luxury. Yes, she considered these to be her successes. And that her sisters are going to make something of themselves so that they never have to go back to Hydesville. Her daughter Lizzie would become a successful woman, smart and marry a good man who would treat her right and not like her ex-husband did to her.

Leah doesn't realise that tears have fallen down her cheeks and so she hastily rubs them away and composes herself. What will the girls say if they had come down and seen her a bloody mess? It will do no good to dwell on the past. She learned that from a young age. Press onwards. That's all one can do. The past is to be used as a reference, not a place to reside. Just because her past didn't turn out like she had wanted it to, didn't mean that she couldn't carve out a future better than she could have ever imagined. And Leah like to think she was doing just that.

She smooths down her crinolines and exhales. She moves with renewed purpose into the parlour and begins to straighten up to make it presentable for their guests. She picks up Lizzie's reference books from the table and straightens the objects she had moved. With haste Leah moves into the little study and places the books on the bookshelf. She pauses and looks around. The maid hasn't been dusting this room to her satisfaction. She will have to have a word with her. This is an incredibly easy job; she doesn't understand the lack of compassion. She is trying to run a business. She sighs angrily and strides from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Leah pauses at the bottom of the staircase and listens to the silence on the upper floor. The girls are too quiet. She hopes they haven't fallen asleep. There is work to be done and Leah reaches into her sleeve to pull out the piece of paper with those who are attending. It is a small sitting. Just a man and a woman. The man, a doctor – son of a local, respected politician – and the woman his possible fiancée. There aren't many notes on her, just that she comes from money. So most likely haughty. This is their first sitting. Leah returns the slip of paper into her sleeve and clears her throat.

'Girls! Come here please! I wish to discuss with you our plans for tonight's sitting!' Leah is quiet before she hears the dutiful footsteps on the floor and their bedroom door open. Leah folds her hands in front of her. She's interested to hear what the girls have to say.

She had overheard them talking this morning that the spirits were loud and excited at someone's arrival. And they wanted to make their presence known. How interesting. This sitting will surely make believers out of them. Leah can't stop the smile that spreads across her face. This sitting is only going to increase their reputation. Think of the publicity…

* * *

Leah frowns and walks towards the hall door. They hadn't been expecting any more visitors than what they have at the table, two plus herself and the girls, so that's six. Truly she can't fathom what this may be about. Her hand hover over the knob before she inhales and straightens her crinolines.

'I'm terribly sorry for the delay, everyone. Please excuse my rudeness. We'll begin in a moment,' Leah opens the door and finds two people standing on her stoop. An older man and a younger one. The young one has his gaze turned over his shoulder to stare at something in the streets. 'Yes? May I help you?'

The older man, dressed in blue with sharp eyes smiles at her. 'You must be Ms Leah Fox!' He exclaims and extends his hand. Leah doesn't offer hers.

'To correct you, sir, it's Mrs Leah Fox Fish.'

'Oh, I'm terribly sorry! But you are the elder sister of Margaret and Catherine, yes?'

Leah regards the man carefully and decides he must be hopeful that she will agree to a sitting. The younger man has turned around and is dressed more plainly than the older one. Cotton breeches, cotton white shirt opened slightly. The suspenders are not tight enough to Leah, they hang slightly and the page boy styled hat that he wears is crooked. Soot is also splattered across the man's cheeks.

But what strikes Leah odd about this young man is the intense gaze and the feminine features. She then scolds herself for thinking so ill of this man's looks. He can't help what God gave him. And who is she to judge? She isn't getting any younger either, and the fact that she spends a good hour pouring over her face in the morning trying to spot any new wrinkles does speak volumes.

She shouldn't be turning away those who wish to sit with them. They are still building their reputation against the sceptics. The more people they have to attest to her sisters' greatness, the better. She could refuse no one. Even if they did not bring tokens. Their day tomorrow is filled with sittings. They can afford to seat these two. If that's what they even want.

'I am, yes. They are my younger sisters.' Leah responds and the older man grins at the younger one.

'See I told you this brownstone looked familiar,' He tells his companion and his companion offers a crooked smile in return. Leah has been unable to take her eyes off of him. 'Mrs Fish -…'

'Please call me Leah.'

'At your insistence then…' The man smiles at her and turns to his companion with another grin. 'I was wondering when your next sitting is, and if you have room for two stragglers?'

Leah gives the men another once over and attempts to decipher their reasoning for wanting a sitting? The older man could possibly be the younger man's father or at another angle, uncle. The young man wants to inquire about a dead fiancée perhaps while the older one wants contact with his dearly departed wife. Isn't that always the angle?

But still, they pose no threat to her and they seem kindly enough, if not a little excitable. Well the older man is. The younger man has utter not a word since they arrived at her doorstep. If anything they seem to be at awe in the presence of herself and her little sisters. Leah does not get a bad vibe from them merely curiosity. And curiosity is something they can sate very well. So well that people often come back for seconds and thirds. Leah smiles.

'We are just about to conduct a sitting at this very moment. Would you like to join us?' Leah offers and steps inside the foyer and to the side, sweeping her hand out as an invitation. Both men exchange looks and the older one grins.

'Yes! That'd be fantastic. Thank you for your hospitality.' The older man replies and motions for the younger one to step inside, to a long hallway painted of sombre grey. He does so and the older man follows him. Leah shuts the door gently behind them and turns to face them with her hands folded in front of her.

'You're most welcome Mr…?' Leah trails off and the older man widens his eyes.

'Manners. Terrible thing I keep forgetting. You're supposed to help me remember that. Not to jump from place to place,' The older man points to the younger one who merely shrugs in response, lifting his hands up to straighten his hat. The older man offers his hand to Leah. 'I'm the Doctor.'

Leah blinks and smiles, taking the man's hand tightly in her own. 'A doctor? My, my how interesting. A doctor of what?'

The Doctor shrugs. 'This and that, mostly. Mainly. And this here is Rose.'

Leah snatches her hand back from the Doctor and presses it against her chest in shock. There must be some mistake. Rose? That name belongs to a woman but that is not a woman standing before her. It is a man. Perhaps she misheard. And his name is Ross?

'I'm sorry, Rose, did you say?'

'That's right, hi.'

Leah widens her eyes at the sight of the young man who has just removed the page boy styled hat to reveal a waterfall of golden locks that fall down her back. That explains the androgyny. She unbuttons the shirt a bit further and slides the suspender straps down her arms so they hang loosely to her sides. How brazen of this girl?! She wipes the soot off of her face - smudges is more accurate - and smiles, holding out her hand.

Not wanting to be rude, Leah holds out her and Rose takes it firmly, still staring at her. Rose arches her eyebrow as Leah holds onto her hand too long. Leah is in awe and shock, unsure of how to respond. How can she explain this, this woman to the others that are waiting so patiently for things to commence? Leah is also vaguely aware of the odd look the woman is giving her.

'I'm sorry?' Leah whispers and Rose smiles at her before dropping her gaze to their hands. Leah does the same and still doesn't let go.

'I'd like my hand back, please,' Rose comments and Leah drops her hand with haste. Rose finds her flustered attitude amusing. Looks like the plain disguise worked rather well. She wants to comment on it. The Doctor is busy looking at the framed photographs by on the wall just before the parlour. 'I'm sorry, did my getup…surprise you?'

Leah hopes the blush she feels in her cheeks isn't visible. She looks to her own heavy, dark dress, heavy with fabric and entirely modest. It shows no curves and restricts anything. While she has seen some women on the streets try and show off their cleavage, Leah doesn't believe that she is of appropriate age to do so, and she has her daughter to think of.

But the way this…Rose dresses is so strange and peculiar that she wonders if there could be something wrong…in her head. Why else would a woman want to be dressing like a man? What does she gain from it? Leah attempts to mask her disgust and yet remain friendly to her guests. She invited them inside her home, well, she did invite two men into her home, not a man and a woman disguised as a man. How terrible would she look if she asked them politely to leave? They are too odd for her company. And yet how can she decline or revoke their invitation to their sit down without looking like flake?

'Your question, Rose, yes I'm sorry. Forgive me, I have failed to provide an answer to you. It did take me off guard. I have, laws, I have never…seen a woman dress in the attire you currently don. Forgive my rudeness.'

Rose smiles and crosses her arms, eyeing the Doctor as he continues to move around the front hallway and look at the pictures hung in no order on the walls. She stuffs the hat into her back pocket and shrugs.

'We were travelling somewhere. The need to disguise myself became important.'

'No, that isn't the answer.' The Doctor chimes in and Rose turns over her shoulder to shake her head at him. There isn't any point of splitting the details. Their little adventure prior to this.

'Yes it is, we don't need to be filling in the details at the moment. I dress how I want according to the mission.'

'Mission?' Leah repeats and frowns at Rose. Then she remembers that frowning will no doubt reveal that she's already apprehensive about allowing them to stay. So she relaxes her face.

'Well, we got side tracked before we came here.' Rose explains briefly and the Doctor shakes his head before coming over to join her. Leah regards the pair of them carefully, intensely curious of their relationship to one another but smart enough to know it isn't any of her business. Stay quiet enough and things like that do have a tendency to work themselves out.

'That happens quite a lot with us.' The Doctor adds and Rose gives him a crooked grin when he hands her a handkerchief and tells her to rub her cheeks a bit harder.

Again Leah feels the pang in her chest of wondering if she should have agreed to seat these two…oddballs. Still they've been harmless enough, just eccentric. Leah presses her lips together and her eyes dart to the parlour where her guests have gathered and are waiting patiently.

'Well, if you two are all set, allow me to lead you to the parlour where the others are waiting,' Leah smiles tightly at them and Rose glances up to the Doctor. 'Please follow me.'

'If you insist…' The Doctor and Rose follow Leah into a stuffy Victorian parlour. Lace on the end tables, gaudy pale pink wallpaper and an antique grandfather clock poised kitty corner to the fireplace that smoulders embers, a fire on the way out. Rose inhales and smells sage. A cleansing agent? Just how real are the going to get? Or is it a ploy to appear authentic? Or to show off this little family's wealth.

The gas lamps have been turned down low, emitting just enough of a glow for Rose to study the faces of those she and the Doctor will be joining. She exhales as a precaution. No cold spots. That's a good sign. At least she thinks so. The candles in their holders on the tables surrounding the chairs give the room an ethereal feel. The flecks of light bounce off of the ornate decorations and 'clutter' of an eclectic taste that's thrown together. It creates the illusion of shadows in the room, dancing upon the chairs and couches, the chandelier above their heads and on the heavy blue curtains in front of the windows where the street lights from outside shine bright behind the curtains. An uncomfortable feeling. But still, nothing more than that.

She glances up to the Doctor who arches his eyebrow in a grinning matter. He's obviously elated that they're here. She can't help the anxiety she feels, the last time they got mixed up in this, purely by accident, it was an incident she'd like to forget. Now they've made the genius decision of double checking to ensure that this fad of Spiritualism wasn't doing anything suspicious. Like actually summoning spirits. Ugh, that's the anxiety talking. This was supposed to be a fun outing, to see the women who changed how Spiritualism was seen and how inevitably left their mark on it.

Rose turns her attention back to the three women, aside from Leah sitting at the table and one man. What an odd balance. The man is proper, sitting rigid and pulls out the time piece from his vest front pocket and checks the time. Rose doesn't get how he can read it but, whatever. The man turns to her and Rose offers a small smile. Square jaw, clean shaven with a bland look on his face. What's he here for? Does she want to know?

The woman on the man's left is also of high statue, Rose can tell by her haughty glare of the newcomers and expensive looking dress she's dressed in. In Rose's opinion, the corset is tied to tightly, which may explain why the woman is taking such shallow breaths. The woman's hook nose and pursed lips are the epitome of a look that states I'm judging you. Well, won't she give this woman something to gossip about when she goes back to vacuous friends. How do women function in this society when all they do is gossip about anything under the sun, entertain and clamour to be married off to a good husband? She'll never get it.

The two younger girls must be Catherine and Margaret. They look to be close in age. Catherine wears her hair in two long braids which makes Rose wonder if that's formal. The corset she's wearing underneath the pale yellow dress appears stifling her as well. Not to mention she looks immensely bored and her grey eyes held her sister's firmly. Margaret stretched a bit. Margaret has to be older of the two. Her blue eyes hold Rose's firmly and she can't help but notice that Margaret straightens up a bit and leans forward. As though to truly assess Rose's character. Margaret puts her hand on the table and taps three times. Katie looks over to her, widens her eyes and looks back to Margaret nodding her head. Okay, so like is she covered in something? What's with the thorough once overs?

Then she remembers that she is dressed like a man in Victorian Rochester in 1850. Of course she looks odd. To reiterate…she hates walking into the unknown completely unarmed. Sit back and enjoy the ride, yeah that hasn't been her lately. She can't lower the bar when she doesn't know what to expect and how to do so. Defences up and wits armed. That's the only thing to do. She also surveys the room for anything made of iron. Just in case.

As Leah returns from her short absence with two more chairs in her arms, the Doctor takes them from her and Rose points to the fireplace. He nods and sets her chair directly behind the fireplace, just in case they need to reach for it. The Doctor sits directly across from her and arches his eyebrow as if to tell her to get ready.

Leah emerges from her disappearance again with a few sheets of loose paper and piece of graphite in her hands. She sets the objects to her right on the floor when she takes a seat in the chair next to the man and smiles at her guests. Rose can't help but notice that there is tension at the table. Why? Rose shifts her gaze to the piano poised between the two heavily curtained windows. She blinks when she feels a small ball of paper hit her in the cheek. The Doctor grins at her. They begin their mental conversation. He wants to know if she's bored, she tells him no. Is she excited for this? Apprehensive, because of the last time. He wants to know what are the chances that a situation like that would repeat itself? She smirks crookedly at him. Isn't that their entire life story? He shrugs.

Maggie and Katie watch the odd man and woman interact. The girls are overcome with questions for the blonde woman who dresses how she chooses. Maggie turns her gaze to Katie and taps on her thigh five times. Their own silent conversation commences. That woman…with the golden aura. Do you hear the voices clamouring for her? Maggie wonders. Katie closes her eyes once to signal yes she does. The spirits here are noisy tonight. Maybe they should rely on their parlour tricks to fool everyone. That way people are safe. Maggie agrees with her thoughts. All eyes go to Leah when she announces that things are about to get underway.

'Thank you all for coming tonight, I do thank you for your openness and your patience. We are going to delve into a realm that few get to see. I should like to warn you that anything you see or hear or experience is entirely real and in no way faked for your amusement.

'Take consolation in knowing that no harm will come to you tonight. My sisters Margaret and Catherine will be a light to those how have passed through the veil and act as your protectors. And through them, the spirits will use them as a voice to pass along messages. While it may appear as though they may be in danger due to their altered state, I must warn you not to intervene as the spirits will release them in due time.

'I have produced paper and pencil so that my sisters can take down messages directed to you as the spirits see fit. Do not be scared of what you witness tonight. What we see here tonight, whomever we speak to tonight is a privilege and honour. We are glimpsing another journey. Death is just the beginning.'

Rose arches her eyebrow and turns her gaze to the Doctor who smiles at her again and rubs his hands together. Rose slouches into her seat a little bit further. After a rousing speech like that…she truly doesn't know what to expect. Leah is peddling quite a show. She's seen the ghosts in action but can two girls from Rochester in 1850 truly harness the power summon ghosts on demand? And how do they even know if this place is haunted? Isn't that how it worked last time? They saw the ghosts and their power because she and the Doctor had stepped onto their territory. You can't…summon them, can you? She exhales. Normal. She closes her eyes. Summoning? Well, she supposes she's about to find out.

She can feel the eyes of Margaret and Catherine on her and she's about to ask them what they've been staring at when they both put their hands onto the table and they exhale, looking up to the ceiling before Margaret instructs them on what to do next.

'Good evening, everyone. My name is Maggie, together with my sister Katie, we would like you to join us in welcoming the spirits who are ready to speak to us. They will provide answers to questions you may have about those who have been lost. In order to truly connect to them, we ask that you join hands with one another.' Maggie explains and grips Katie's hand in her own. Maggie extends her hand to Rose and she takes it, while Maggie does a terrible job masking her surprise but quickly turns her attention back to the group.

Once everyone has joined hands there is silence, just the sound of clock on top of the fireplace mantel is heard ticking away. Rose looks around to the table to see everyone has their eyes closed and so she follows suit, wondering when things will happen. She doesn't know that it won't be long.

'Spirits. My name is Katie. I implore to come towards the light and make your presence to us known,' Katie pauses and again the ticking clock is heard. Silence. 'Spirits. Is there anyone close to the light who will come through to be our liaison? We wish to learn from you…'

Now all Rose can hear is her own heart beating loudly in her chest. But still there is no sounds aside from the noisy clock. She exhales. Normal. No cold spots. She nearly laughs. Of course this is phony! This is just harmless parlour tricks, a way for people to pass the time. She catches the eye of the Doctor who is giving her a be patient look, he is waiting to see the methods the girls will use to make the presence of the spirits known. Joint cracking, that's what he'd believe. Maybe they have someone lurking behind the curtains to come out of the shadows to play along with the girls and frighten those at this sitting.

Ticking, passing each second by loudly. Rose glances over to the clock. She knew this had to be a hoax, so she mentally agrees with the Doctor. They will simulate knocking sounds to indicate that the spirits have arrived by joint cracking. Simplistic but it will convince people of their supposed authentic talents, that and people are prone to believing things if they are in a state where they are believing with their emotions and not using sense. The awkward silence grows heavy. Rose opens her eyes and looks to Maggie and Katie who still have their eyes closed but their features reveal the slightest tight frown. Is this normal? Is it normal for these women to have a sitting and have nothing happen? How do they make things happen if they can't summon the spirits? How do they make it believable if they need to rely on their own senses and wits?

'There is hesitation. I'm sorry, everyone but those amongst us do not wish to come to the light just yet. Truly I am so sorry. We must be patient…' Katie informs them and both she and Maggie retract their hands from themselves and place them in their laps. Why does Rose get the feeling that they've never experienced this before. Why would this incident be different from the others?

Rose watches Leah's look become crestfallen. Panic flashes in her eyes. She's the one that manages her sisters' careers, is she imagining what will happen if they are made to wait? Will that damage their reputation? Is that what this elder sister is worried about?

Everyone's attention is drawn to the haughty woman as she scoffs and crosses her arms impatiently. 'I don't understand. We have to wait for them to be ready? I was promised that my questions would be answered. Within a timely manner. All of my friends who came to you had _their_ questions answered, and now mine will not be? This is unacceptable.'

'I apologise profusely, Ms Packard, I-…' Leah begins before Rose interrupts, annoyed with this snooty woman's outburst and she doesn't care that all eyes descend on her.

'Listen, lady, I don't know what you expected to happen tonight, just as I don't. You can't control people's actions while they're alive so what makes you think you can control them in death? Either you learn some patience or I will escort you to the front door, cause maybe it's your pretentious attitude that's stalling things.' Rose states angrily and the woman is speechless before she narrows her eyes and leans towards Rose.

'How dare you speak to me in that way! You little Dollymop!' The woman cries out and Rose stares at her, having no idea what a Dollymop is. 'How dare you critique me, when it's you – a woman - who is out of twig, disguised as what? A Fluke Faker? What lush did you exit from? Is that what this is, a gammon, a flam? You have some nerve; you deserve to be in an insane asylum.'

Rose blinks and turns to the Doctor who shrugs at her silent need to translate, as everyone else at the table looks horrified and she has a feeling it comes down to her choice of attire. He sighs and gives her a basic translation, since everyone else at the table seems to be silent on the matter and not defending her.

'Dollymop, a part time prostitute,' The Doctor pauses and Rose rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. 'Out of twig, disguised. Fluke Faker, chimney sweep. Lush, tavern. Gammon and flam, trickery.'

'You know; the prostitute thing is getting old.' Rose sighs and leans back into her chair. Another round of awkward silence. Leah swallows and does her best to keep things neutral now that the two women have battled it out. Leah quickly exchanges looks with the girls and they both close their eyes. It seems they are going to have to wait to get into contact with the spirits, question is…how will they get things back on track?

'Well, while we wait, why don't we get a chance to get to know one another and why we're here. Perhaps our unity will goad the spirits into a talkative state.' Leah offers and Rose glances to the Doctor before standing up and migrating to the piano.

'Have at, I think I've been acquainted enough.' Rose replies and sits. The Doctor glares at the woman and Maggie and Katie nod their heads. The spirits are so loud, fascinated with the blonde.

Everyone jumps slightly when the piano keys begin to be struck as Rose plays the second instrumental part to _Eternal_ on a light loop. The Doctor watches her and can tell that she's thoroughly annoyed due to how tense her shoulders are. He studies the rest of the people around them.

Frantic Leah attempting to smooth things over, apprehensive young girls Maggie and Katie who are seeing more than they're letting on. What are they hearing or seeing that they aren't sharing? How uneasy. The Doctor turns his gaze to the man who seems bored and impatient with this whole thing.

'I suppose I shall be the first to speak. My name is Richard; I am a doctor of veterinary medicine. I do not have a purpose here other than accompanying my cousin Lucy here,' Richard lies, not wanting to confess that he's agreed to chaperone Lucy because of the dreams he'd been having, hoping that someone can provide an answer for them. Why now after all these years. 'She's -…'

'I don't need you to speak for me, Richard,' Lucy interrupts and moves a strand of her dark hair off her face. 'Will you cut out that infernal racket, you Judy?'

'Translation?' Rose wonders and doesn't look over her shoulder to the Doctor and he shakes his head.

'Take a guess, you're a smart girl.'

'Another colourful word for prostitute?'

'Yes.'

'Then no.' Rose replies and turns over her shoulder to wink at Lucy. Maggie looks over to the archway where a shadowy figure is lurking. She reaches down and takes Katie's hand. Silently they address the figure together and wonder what it wants.

Maggie reaches for the pad of paper that Leah has left on the table. As she falls into a trance, Katie keeps careful eye on the guests at the table, the man Richard and the woman Lucy continue to argue while Leah's futile attempts to get them to stop. All except the older man, he is watching them. Actually he's watching Maggie as she stares in the doorway, writing something down. Katie never looks until Maggie gives the okay. Why is he so fascinated with what they're doing and not the fighting that's going on? Katie likes him and the odd woman he's with. She knows Maggie does as well. But why are the spirits so interested in the woman?

Katie feels a light tap on her leg. Maggie nods at her and Katie leans towards her so that she can look at the message the spirits have gotten Maggie to write. She swallows. Is it a threat? They should keep a close watch on the woman, just in case. They share a nod and turn their attention to the other two as the woman, Lucy huffs and stillness is heard. The fighting has stopped. The older man has been attempting to see what they've written but Maggie covers it by turning it over. Eventually the piano stops as well and Rose turns to the rest of the table. Silence. Rose crosses her legs and twists the end of her hair.

Lucy folds her arms and glances to Richard before shaking her head. 'I don't know what I expected, other than the information passed on to me by my friends who have been here. I expected that the spirits would make contact and that I would be able to ask them questions. That is what I had been led to believe. I am tired of waiting, and as such, I have decided to bid you all good evening,' Lucy stands and grips the arm of her cousin, Richard. 'Come Richard, I don't believe we'll be getting any answers tonight.'

Richard stands as well and just as he is about to wish everyone a good evening, a draught is felt throughout the room. Rose and the Doctor make eye contact and the girls grip one another's hands. Rose holds her breath as the draught increases and snuffs out the gas lamps. She exhales. Cold spot. Something's here…

Everyone jumps and some let out a cry of surprise as the piano begins to play. The same little tune that Rose had just played moments ago. Lucy grows annoyed.

'Would you stop playing the damned piano? This is hardly the time!' Lucy hisses at Rose and Rose holds up her hands, wiggling her fingers at Lucy. It silences her immediately.

'I'm not.' Rose declares and doesn't gather the courage to look over her shoulder. The Doctor is watching the piano and Rose can see him reaching into his jacket pocket to pull the sonic out. He does so covertly and points it to the piano. They make eye contact. He nods. Rose exhales.

'What is making it do that?' Lucy wonders and clings to Richard as they slowly lower themselves into their respected chairs, even Leah is watching the girls with a pale expression on her face. This obviously must be new to them as well.

'Girls? Could, could you explain to Ms Packard what is happening right now?' Leah wonders but her voice is barely above a whisper and full of self-doubt. How are they going to save their reputation now?

Maggie looks over her shoulder to the woman sitting at the piano, dark hair and in a ratty nightgown. Katie listens carefully to Maggie's whispers of the woman. Her aura is diseased and sick. Vengeful and spiteful. What's scary is the ferocious quickness this spirit has picked up things from the moment the girls saw her in the doorway she migrated over to the woman, Rose. Stood over her shoulder and watched. Learned. And she had managed to keep her aura a secret. She managed to stay absorbed in the shadows. But now she's ready to make her presence known. And she's able to bring her friends with her. From all walks of life. Children. Men and women, young and old. The one man who stands between the windows, his neck bent at an odd angle. He died in this house. Hanging. Suicide. The children scampering around them – which begs the question how no one can see or feel or hear them – they are so sickly. Consumption. Typhoid. Diphtheria. Cholera. So much death. The girls take a long look at one another. This is unlike anything they've ever encountered before. Why is this time so different from the hundreds of sittings they've done prior to this?

'The spirits are here.' Maggie states plainly and watches the woman at the piano abruptly stop. Maggie averts her gaze when she sees the woman begin to turn over her shoulder. Maggie is unsure she wants to see that woman's face. She's scared to.

'Spirits?' Lucy repeats and Rose sees a smile appear on her face. Oh this is so not good. 'Well finally. I can get some answers to my questions.' She lets out a squeak of surprise as a glass vase shatters on the mantle. The pieces fall like a cascade of water to the floor. The spirits are angry. Oh, why can't they find some friendly ones, Rose wonders. Most likely because there is no such thing.

'I don't think anyone will be getting answers. They are not in a talkative mood.' Katie explains and sits straighter in her chair as she feels the woman slides past and stands over the older man. He must feel her above him and when she puts her hand on his left shoulder he reaches to his left shoulder as well, covering her hand with his. Maggie looks up to the woman just enough to see her smile before moving on.

'What do you mean they are not in a talkative mood? Absurd. I was told you could control them, make them speak. This is the lousiest sitting I've ever been to.' Lucy cries out in pain as something yanks her back by her hair, gaze firmly locked with the ceiling, throat exposed. Lucy exhales a cloud of breath in front of her as a red line appears across her throat. Maggie and Katie widen their eyes. That woman does not like being disrespected. Thankfully the woman only runs her finger across Lucy's throat and nothing more.

Rose watches as Lucy straightens up and Richard begins asking the routine questions. Whether or not she's okay. Rose's attention is drawn to Leah next as she touches her cheek and exhales a cloud of white air. It's working down the line. She's next. That's not comforting. The Doctor had felt it. He touched his shoulder. She also doesn't miss the fact that the girls have turned to her, only they are looking above her. Rose can feel something looming over her. She tries to ignore it and addresses Lucy. Hoping that whatever is there, will see that she's not as ignorant as that woman is.

'Lucy. Listen to me. You need to stop being so haughty and pretentious about this subject. No one controls anything about these spirits. If anything, they can control you. Believe me, I speak from experience. You have to respect them. They are not here to put on a show for you.' Rose explains and Lucy clutches Richard's arm tighter. Rose can see the rage festering within her.

'I was just attacked!' Lucy cries out and Richard tells her to keep her voice down. Rose shakes her head at her.

'No, you were just being observed and tested. Trust me, that was nothing compared to what that spirit could have done to you.' Rose replies and Lucy glares at her.

'How do you know any of this? Who do you work for? Are you a Spiritualist as well? Do you conduct sittings too and you're just here to scope out the competition because you're not gaining any new clientele?' Lucy questions and Rose arches her eyebrow at her.

'Why are you so spiteful?' Rose wonders and feels the hair on her neck stand. Something's right behind her. So much for ignoring it. Rose exhales. Still cold. 'You don't need to worry about how I know this. I'm not a Spiritualist, trust me. I'm not a medium or anything like that. Just more sensitive to these things I reckon. Jump in any time.' Rose adds and turns to the Doctor. He holds his hands up, thinking she's doing a fair job on her own.

Katie and Maggie watch in horror as the woman is running her hand down Rose's left arm. Rose closes her eyes, willing this to stop.

'Rose? What's going on?' The Doctor calls to her and Rose is silent while she shakes her head. She bites her lip. The spirit is playing with her hair.

'Remember Odette?'

'Of course…' The Doctor doesn't like how she started that sentence.

'I'm getting that strange feeling again. I think I'm walking around with a giant target on my back.'

'If you're as sensitive as you think you are then come over and stand by me. Because I'm sure you can feel it, the sonic confirms it. We're not alone.'

'You can't stop something like this. Here we go again,' She sighs and goes to stand but finds herself stuck in her seat. Something is holding her down by her shoulders. 'I suggest we start taking inventory of all the iron things we have. We're going to need them…because…I can't get up. I think I'm about to go under.' Rose informs him and the Doctor watches her struggle to leave her chair but she starts to laugh. Though he isn't sure if it's out of impatience or sheer bad luck.

'I'm getting the iron.' The Doctor gets up and goes behind Rose, hoping to scare whatever is lingering around her into leaving. She grabs his hand. She can feel herself clamouring to keep control. The sensation has stopped on her shoulders but now she can feel the internal battle ignite. It's so damn cold.

'I think it's too late. Just get whatever is in me out as fast as you can,' Rose confesses and the Doctor rushes to the fireplace and grabs the iron poker just as Maggie and Katie gasp, moving their chairs away from Rose who is gripping the table. Her head is bent over, obscuring her face. 'I'm so sorry for whatever I do or whatever happens…' Rose manages to get out between gritted teeth before she falls silent.

'Girls. Talk to me.' The Doctor comes around to them carefully and Maggie points to Rose.

'She's entered. How can that be? Consent was not given.'

'They're ghosts, I doubt highly they care for formalities like consent. Stay close to your sister.' The Doctor instructs and they go to move to Leah but find they are stuck in their seats as well.

'Sir…we can't move.' Katie replies and Leah, Richard and Lucy attempt as well. Their struggles are in vain. Rose smiles to her lap. The doors slam shut. Everyone jumps.

The Doctor's grip on the iron poker is loosened when something yanks it out of his grasp and it propels itself forward into the wall across from the table. The Doctor stares at Rose and her ridged posture, she hasn't moved a muscle, staring at her lap but her hands grip the end of the table so severely that her knuckles blanch. He's just about to instruct her, or rather, whatever's inside of her to let the innocents go but he's pushed back towards the chair which is flung out to greet him. He lands in the chair and the invisible force slides the chair back at the table. Now he can't move. Off to a great start. He's gotta get these reflexes working better. They're dull and not sharp. He's already working on a plan to get Rose out of harm's way by attempting to recall their last encounter.

Something physical bound that spirit to Hellingly. A locket. Iron makes them go away. If he touches Rose with the iron will that expel the spirit from her? Say it does, how does he get it. He learned the last time that spirits are immensely powerful. They don't reveal their purpose to anyone, that has to be discovered. Feels as though they're dealing with another vengeful spirit. Great. So, is it connected with something in the house? If it is, what? How long have Leah and the girls lived here? Do they even know anything about the house's prior owners? Too many hypotheticals right now. He needs to focus on getting Rose back to full strength. Which begs the question…why is she so prone to these attacks? She's more of a believer than he is, funny thing to deny since he sees it in his face, but maybe she's right. Maybe she's sensitive. Like a physical medium? No, maybe not that far. Stop getting distracted. Focus on Rose. She's fighting like hell. He needs to help her back. He swallows, the tension around the table is stifling, it's almost as though no one is breathing afraid of what will happen if they do. Almost impossible given the chilliness of the air surrounding them.

'Rose?' He tries and holds his breath when she slowly turns her head towards him. Mechanically as though whatever is in her is getting used to commanding a live body again. She turns to him and he sucks in his breath. Her eyes are white. Were they like that last time? Why can't he remember?

'Hey baby…' Rose replies, her accent is gone, well not gone but muddled between an American one and her natural London one. 'Hm, no wait. That's not accurate anymore, is it?'

'It can be,' The Doctor answers and Rose smiles at him. 'What I really want to know is who you are. What's your name and why are you here? Are you alone?'

Rose clicks her tongue. 'Those are so many questions,' She pauses and looks around the table, her gaze falling on Richard. Again she smiles. 'Well, I'll be damned. Again. Richard. Hello.'

Richard frowns and gets uncomfortable. 'I'm afraid I don't know you. We haven't met except for just this moment.'

'That is untrue. I thought I recognised that aura the moment it walked into this house. How lucky am I to have you so close, after what you did…' Rose replies and Richard begins to refute her claims when Rose holds her hand out and the breath is knocked out of him. He coughs.

'Rose?' The Doctor calls and she turns to face him. She tilts her head.

'My name isn't Rose, and she is…incapacitated at the moment.'

'I'd really like to talk to her. I'd like to talk to Rose.' The Doctor repeats and Rose shakes her head.

'No.'

'Yes. I'd like to speak to Rose,' The Doctor can see that it will get nowhere with her and he sighs. He attempts a new angle. 'Tell me about yourself then. What's your name?'

'None of your business.'

'But I'd like to learn more about you. Maybe help you, if you'd let me.'

'You can call me whatever you'd like. For the right price. I'll be whomever you want me to be. Rose Tyler. The Wolf. Bad and scary am I. Maybe you prefer Rhoswen. Or Marion. Defender of Earth. Maybe I'll be a little more sinister. I can be a dame named Ruby who flirts with danger and dangerous men alike. Enough to make you jealous? Right baby? This lexicon is difficult to understand. But you aren't. Men never are.'

Rose begins to laugh, and yet minimal sound comes from her mouth. Her white eyes grip the Doctor's before moving on to everyone else at the table watching with a lingering gaze. Her white knuckled hands abruptly let go of the table and she bangs her fists on the table loudly, raking her nails down the table hard enough to leave impressions as she draws her hands back to her sides.

'I want you to be true to yourself. Tell me who you are.' The Doctor demands and everyone stares at the Doctor and Rose as a battle of wits erupts in front of them. No one dares to speak, enthralled by this scene unfolding before them. Not that they could move anyway. But Rose seems to ignore the Doctor's requests.

'Oh. You. Ah yes, you,' Rose slowly lands her stare on the Doctor and she exhales a cloud of breath in front of her. The Doctor is unable to look away. 'Look at me. Do not let my physical manifestation scare you. I can see into your…hearts. Your mind and soul. To know you and this vessel does. I can see so much. I know so much. Those eyes have seen so many places and those hearts have felt so many things. And yet…you still smile at the darkest feelings and somehow manage to find expression in everything that happens to be coloured beautiful. Those blue eyes have more darkness in them than any brown eyes I have ever seen. How…'

'Is Rose still in there?' The Doctor demands, cutting her words short and Rose leans forward, holding his gaze firmly. The Doctor leans forward to match her however Rose takes him by surprise and in a swift motion has mounted the table and grabbed the Doctor by the front of his shirt and glares at him. The smile she gives him is twisted. Like before, in Hellingly, that ghost has taken her most beautiful feature and perverted it. Her sick smile sends chills into him, and it's not because of her hands, though they are as cold as ice.

'She claws for control. But not yet. You're scared that you may lose her,' Rose replies and the Doctor widens his eyes as her white eyes disappear only to be replaced by her bewitching hazel ones. They too quickly vanish. Blazing golden eyes bear into his own eyes. 'Now we see what scares you. The colour gold she bathes in. You believe she will be lost to it one day. How touching.

'But, let me assure you. When she dies. It won't be from that. And she will die. Oh, so soon. Much sooner than you think. It will take you by surprise. It will be sudden. Will you mourn her? Will you forget her? Oh, I like this reaction I am getting from you. Horrified. Nothing can take your Rose away, can it? The Defender of Earth. The Wolf will die.'

'Enough!' The Doctor shouts and grips Rose by her chin, stunned that he was able to wrangle control but doesn't dwell on it. He continues staring into her white eyes. Rose dissolves into that soundless, broken laugh. 'You will stay silent about death!'

'I will never be silent about death! I have experienced it first-hand! How cruel it is! And I want to share with you the crippling feeling of dying alone.'

'I've done that many times, dying alone doesn't scare me! Now, get out of her! Rose?! Fight it!'

Rose holds her hand out and the Doctor is flung back into his chair unable to move no matter how much he struggles against the unseen restraints. He attempts to get his fingers into his pants pocket to retrieve the sonic, or at least aim it at the iron poker lodged in the wall. If he can do that, perhaps he can launch it at Rose. She'll grab it and maybe the spirit will be expelled from her.

'She's a tough old bird, but she's not strong enough to get into control. Oh I am going to have so much fun with you, Richard. I truly can't believe my luck. In death! Finally, in death things appear to work to my favour.'

'I am telling you the god honest truth, I do not know who you are! Your identity vexes me!' Richard exclaims and Rose smiles, shrugging. The Doctor manages to secure his sonic and drops his hand again. He nearly loses his sonic as it slips through his fingers but he manages to hang onto it.

'All the better then, love. You will die horribly and painfully.' Rose smiles and begins to walk towards Richard who struggles against the forces that hold him in his place. Lucy begins to cry and begs for Richard's life. Rose merely holds her hand out and Lucy's chair is knocked to the side, she tumbles down and something drags her out of the room, the door opens and shuts so loudly that Maggie and Katie cry out from surprise.

Rose abruptly stops and looks over to her right as the iron poker is hurling itself towards her. She glares at it and holds her hand out. It stops and she tilts her head, watching as it is suspended in mid-air and she drops her hand, the poker falls to the ground, clattering loudly. She sighs and looks over to the Doctor who closes his eyes.

'Yeah, guess I forgot about that angle. Damn.'

'Indeed. Damned, your luck is,' Rose tells him and smiles. 'You get too consumed with attempting to save her and you fail to see all of the outcomes. This girl…there's so much to her. She's really quite fascinating.'

'That's Rose, she makes friends wherever she goes.' The Doctor replies and Rose smiles at him. It irks him, that twisted smile. How is he going to help her?

'I can see that. She's a delight. You two have known each other for a while now, yes? Oh, but there's strife. Still?'

'All relationships have strife. You work through them and move on.'

'You didn't. Either did she. You are not to speak to me of ill relationships. All of mine withered. So much so until I died. Alone. Without anyone. What a life.' Rose states bitterly and shakes her head. The Doctor watches Rose carefully. She has eyes only for Richard. It isn't hard to deduct what's going on.

This spirit that has inadvertently been summoned by the girls has a hate on for Richard, whether or not he recognises this woman who has invaded Rose's body is inconsequential. He'd rather not have anyone die in his care right now, but how can he expel the spirit from Rose and keep Richard safe? If she manages to end Richard's life, will she simply leave or will she turn her vengeful nature onto all of them? This entire ordeal was supposed to be a walk in the park, something they do all the time. Then again on the flip side…had they not come, innocent people could have lost their lives. Again. They still can lose them; they are not out of danger yet. He attempts to buy more time for them while he figures out a way to get her to touch the iron. How else can he expel a ghost from the host body? An exorcism? Is that a step too far? He didn't need it the last time, then again they had some supernatural help expelling Odette from Rose. What if he got the girls to summon another spirit to help them out? What if that does more harm than good? No it's probably best to keep the unearthly visitors to a minimum for that exact reason. It's dangerous. Time to think of a pan.

'I'd like to learn more about your life, would you tell me?' The Doctor calls to Rose who is still staring unblinkingly at Richard. She mechanically turns towards him and tilts her head to a near uncomfortable angle. A slight frown graces her features.

'You want to know about my life?' Rose repeats, there is disgust dripping from her voice.

'Yes.'

'My life was full of betrayal and hurt.'

'Why?'

Katie and Maggie listen to the whispers that erupt suddenly. The woman is not being truthful. They are hearing pieces that may be helpful. But they must tread carefully so they don't evoke her wrath. They can hear Lucy crying from the other room. They didn't see any spirits follow the chair but…who truly knows.

Maggie swallows and Katie nods. 'Miss? Did you used to live nearby?'

Katie gasps as Rose rushes towards them and Maggie holds her breath as Rose leans into her face. She smiles and Katie turns over her left shoulder to a new presence in the room, masking their energy. The spirit within Rose hasn't picked up on it. Katie watches the Doctor attempting to reach for the iron.

'I did, small one. A few blocks from here. But I hailed from Arnett.'

'What was your neighbourhood like, Miss?' Maggie presses and Katie feels the new spirit move around the table to stand behind Richard. But it's so silent.

Rose grips Maggie's chair's armrests tightly as she smiles. 'My neighbourhood was filled with vagabonds, derelicts, whores and sickness. Death was as much a neighbour as anyone living. And yet strangely, we looked out for one another. We were on the fringes of society. All we had to rely on were the other outcasts. All we had was one another. The tenements are funny like that, aren't they?'

'I wouldn't know, Miss. I grew up on a farm in Hydesville.' Maggie explains and Rose tilts her head.

'How fascinating. How did you find the city when you first came here?'

'Overwhelming. Busy. Uncaring. Unflinching.'

'Yes. How accurate.'

'My name is Margaret. But everyone calls me Maggie.'

'Margaret, how kind to meet you.'

'This is my sister Katie. My sister Leah. You um, know Rose and her friend. He's a doctor. And…well, Richard and Lucy.' Maggie pauses and realises that she may have prodded the spirit too much and grows uncomfortable when Rose smiles at her. Katie hasn't taken her eyes off the spirit who is lingering. One who now emits a scent of regret. Katie doesn't want to engage the spirit yet. So she tries to establish a mental connection, only to find herself blocked.

'I do yes. What good manners you have. Such a rarity.'

'Yes, Miss. My sister Leah says they are important. Would you do me the honour of telling me your name?' Maggie wonders and instantly gets cold when Rose places her hand on her cheek. Maggie exhales a cloud of breath in front of her.

'Ah, silly girl. This is not a day for introductions. This is a day of reckoning. Of my revenge finally being complete,' Rose smiles and withdraws her hand. She goes up to Richard who begins struggling against the invisible forces. She pauses as she gets to Richard and turns over her shoulder to the rest of the group. The Doctor straightens up to mask what he's been doing, carefully moving the iron towards him with his foot. 'You all might want to…look away. This is going to get messy.'

'You keep your hands off of me, you witch!' Richard shouts and Rose grins while placing her hand on his cheek. Richard can feel the cold seep into his bones. Surely this is the touch of death. She will kill him. At least he will be reunited with his beloved fiancée. How much he does miss her. The Doctor frantically tires to get the iron poker, not caring if he begins to cause a scene.

Rose opens her mouth to say something but her head jerks strangely and she frowns. She exhales a few times, her eyes darting around the room, and she backs into the table. Maggie and Katie watch the spirit who has refused to reveal themselves focus their energy on Rose. However, Rose doesn't seem to know that the spirit is there and they believe she believes that it's simply the real Rose clawing for control.

When the spirit, still shrouded in the black mist like form, begins to move towards Rose, the visible spirits grow louder in their whispers. Talking over one another. But the girls are unable to make out what they are saying. Evidently it makes the woman within Rose pause and turn towards them, frowning.

'What are you all saying?!' Rose screams and she covers her ears. She drops her hands to her sides and strides towards the spirits that have gathered at the windows. To everyone else she is simply staring at a pair of windows, shouting. She yells at them to shut up and having finally grown annoyed enough that she storms back towards Richard and the Doctor calls at her to stop but Rose holds out her hand and the Doctor's chair slides against floor and is pinned against the opposite wall. The others jump from the noise as he struggles. The Doctor attempts to stop her from harming Richard and she pauses.

'Rose I know you're in there. You need to fight harder! Get control!' The Doctor shouts from across the room and she removes her hand from Richard's chest. He splutters and gasps for air, constantly exhaling a cloud of whiteness. The Doctor watches as Rose glides towards him with rage so evident in those blank eyes. She grits her teeth and holds her hand out when she's about half way towards him.

The Doctor lurches forward. Her hand is in a fist and that's exactly what it feels like in his hearts. Like someone has them in a vice like grip. Violently crushing the life from him. He chokes and gasps for air, wincing as Rose continues to come towards him. He begs her to stop, looking up at her, pleading silently to stop. Surprisingly he can see the blankness to her face, stony and cold but the tears that cascade down her face tell him she's in there and she's still fighting. She's giving her hell. The girls chime in as well, trying to encourage Rose to fight harder while Leah continues to talk to Richard who is recovering from his own ordeal. Well better him than Richard, he supposes.

The Doctor manages to pull his head up from his chest just in time to see a shadow move from its position from the window with a rapid pace. The Doctor widens his eyes as the shadow passes right through Rose, as though she is the door and something passes right through her. It forcibly expels the spirit within her and they evaporate into nothing, fading smoke, passing into obscurity.

Rose gasps and falls to her knees before collapsing onto her back, wincing from the awkwardness as the spark of life is reignited within her. She keeps breathing out, clouds of her breath form in front of her and as the others slowly regain movement in their limbs, the Doctor is up from his seat and rushing towards Rose, still staring at the ceiling. He slides on his knees and takes his hand tightly in his own.

She looks around to the others. 'Is, is everyone okay?'

'Fine.' The Doctor answers automatically.

'You…didn't look.' She lightly scolds and the Doctor helps her into a sitting position. Her hands shake as she grasps onto his arm. Everything in her hurts and is sore. Rose looks up to him as she waits for an answer to her question.

'I did, while I was rushing to ensure of your safety, I glanced up at everyone else. They're fine. Even Richard.' The Doctor tells her and Rose gives him a short nod and sighs as he wraps her arm around his shoulder and his free hand around her waist. He hoists her up and Rose gingerly puts pressure onto her feet. Her legs are tense and they nearly give out under her own weight. They feel just as they did the first time she ran her half marathon. Oddly still not as bad as the full first marathon.

The girls pull away from Leah's embrace and Richard is vigorously rubbing his chest through his shirt, taking deep breaths and wincing. Slowly he opens his eyes and looks around to the others in the room with him. His hosts, the girls and their sisters are close together, fear in their eyes uneasiness hangs in the air like a visible cloud. The older man and the younger woman, she broken out into a cold sweat as the man continues to keep her steady on her feet as she's still shaking. He can't imagine what it was like for her, but damn he told Lucy this is not a good idea. Now he knows why, the spirits shouldn't be trifled with, even if – he will admit – he thought this entire movement was a hoax. The older man gently lets the woman stand on her own, hovering close unless she crumples under her own weight. She's hunched over but eventually straightens up. Another thought crosses Richard's mind…

Lucy! Speaking of Lucy…Richard turns over his shoulder just as the doors to the parlour opened in a flourish and Lucy has hell and wrath in her eyes strides towards the young woman and before he or the older man can stop her, she's slapped the younger woman across the face. Hard. So hard it echoes in the room. Then there is stunned silence. Lucy has her fists balled at her side and no one says anything. Even the older man she's with is shocked to silence. The younger woman idly stands there. The red welt evident. Gradually, a crooked smile develops on the woman's face.

When Lucy, obviously still livid about what happened, reaches her hand up to go for another row, the younger woman with incredible speed stops Lucy mid air. The younger woman is holding on to Lucy's wrist with a dark glare in her eyes that Richard questions whether or not the spirit has possessed the woman once again. Especially when she grips Lucy's wrist tighter and yanks her towards her face. They are nearly nose to nose. The younger woman smiles at Lucy, and it causes Lucy to become fearful.

'Touch me again like that…' Rose pauses and releases Lucy and she takes a step back, glaring at Rose.

'Well, you trailed off there. Finish your threat.' Lucy responds indignantly and Rose takes another step closer with a crooked smile. It worries the Doctor, as he's truly not sure if that spirit has slipped back into her that he grabs her arm and holds on tight.

'I don't think I have to. In fact, I'm not even going to ask for an apology.' Rose replies and Lucy swallows a tight lump in her throat and backs up towards Richard. The Doctor lets Rose go.

The Doctor sighs. 'Everyone, take a seat. We have things to discuss. Now.'

Everyone shuffles to find their seats, awkwardly shuffling and carefully sitting, just in case the force will hold them in place. Rose lowers herself down, gripping the table, she's not recovered from that incident properly yet. The Doctor remains standing, walking absently around the room.

'Girls, are we alone at the moment?' Rose wonders and Maggie and Katie look to the mass that had passed through Rose, as it conceals itself by the fireplace. The Doctor bends down and picks up the iron poker, just in case. It offers no resistance.

'There are whispers all around but they are much quieter than earlier. That woman…is not here. At the moment.' Maggie adds but Rose can see their gaze flutters to the fireplace multiple times.

'What's by the fireplace?' Rose questions and Leah finds herself tense as she looks over in that direction, fully expecting to see something. But it's nothing but her chair. She tries to relax but can't. What in the name of god is going on here? This has never happened at any sitting they've ever done before, what's changed.

Katie and Maggie exchange looks. 'A black mass. It only maintains a vague figure. We don't…feel threatened. Just on edge. We know we are being watched. Studied. Assessed.' Katie explains and Leah shifts her seat closer to Richard and Lucy. The Doctor passes the iron poker to Rose and she places it on her lap.

'Let me know if that…mass moves, okay girls?' The Doctor tells them and they nod. The whispers are saying that the woman who possessed Rose has retreated, for now. Expelled by that mass. 'Now, we need to discuss how this sitting has different from the others, besides the obvious. What does a typical sitting…look like? Tell me everything.'

Leah rubs her hands and steadies her voice. 'Allow me. Our business grows by word of mouth. I am contacted by people new and returning and I schedule the sittings myself. I tell the girls who our guests will be for the night and they take it from there.'

The Doctor turns to Maggie and Katie and they look at one another again. 'What do you do, girls? How much is…authentic?'

'Authentic?' Katie repeats and Maggie bites her lip, stopping when Leah gives her a shake of her head. 'Well, all of it. Of course, we tell nothing but the truth.'

'We open up the channels of communications with the spirits. We ask questions and through the whispers we are able to piece together an answer.' Maggie adds and Rose frowns.

'Do the people who visit you have any…artefacts that belong to the person they wish to have contact with?' She wonders and the girls turn to one another.

'Artefacts?' They wonder in unison and Rose nods.

'Yes, personal belongings. A brooch or ring, something like that. Some times the spirits will hone in on that, they're still tied to it even though it's been passed down to a relative.' Rose explains and the girls shake their heads together.

'No one has mentioned anything to us like that before. We didn't know. We merely lift the veil and they come through. If they hone in on something like you say…most of the time they're honing in on their loved ones. They willingly pass along messages. And we tell the living their messages.' Katie answers and Maggie holds Katie's hand tightly. They hear the whispers. The spirit is gathering herself. Rose and the Doctor exchange looks when he pauses over her shoulder.

'Whatever you two do, you've never experienced this before, correct?'

'No sir, nothing like this has ever occurred before now.' Leah confirmed. Rose and the Doctor nod at one another. Definitely not like the last time. This is what happens when people muddle with the occult. Rose wraps her arms around herself as the Doctor continues pacing.

'Whatever we've summoned, inadvertently or not, it's fixated on Richard, that much is obvious.' The Doctor watches the uncomfortable looks that pass around the circular table. Time for the hard hitting questions. They need answers, if he and Rose – well maybe just him – are going to keep these people safe, then they need to know what the hell's going on. Victorian values. Well there is no time for secrets to be swept under the rug.

Rose turns to face Richard and Lucy. Lucy doesn't look at her; her gaze is locked with her lap. 'Time to start talking. What do you know about this spirit you're not telling us?'

'Truly, I am being honest with you. I have no idea whom was targeting me. I have no enemies-…' Richard is interrupted by a thunderous bang that causes everyone to jump and look to the ceiling. Something has called him on his lie. 'That I know of.' He adds and Rose shakes her head, not believing it.

'Why did you come here?' The Doctor questions and notices that Rose grips the iron tighter. Richard turns over his shoulder and sighs audibly.

'I told you. To accompany my cousin Lucy.'

Rose folds her arms. 'Fine, Lucy, why did _you_ come here?'

Lucy says nothing for some time and Rose waits patiently. Finally, haven grown annoyed that Rose hasn't taken her eyes off of her, Lucy dramatically sighs throws her hands up in the air signally defeat. 'My circle of friends recommended the Foxes because of their accurate readings. And I wanted questions answered.'

'What kind of questions answered?' The Doctor presses and Lucy is silent. 'Lucy, leaving things out will not benefit you. The littlest details help. What questions?'

'I wanted…to know my father. He died when I was young. I wanted to know who he was.' Lucy's voice gets softer and softer and by the end of her sentence it's barely above a whisper. Richard is looking to the windows. Perhaps it's time to be honest. It's fixated on him. And it seems as though these people have taken it upon themselves to help them and remove whatever is targeting him.

'That wouldn't do it.' The Doctor decides and Lucy glares at the Doctor in disgust.

'Tact,' Rose reminds him and he eyes her. 'Someone's not telling the truth.'

'I have a confession.' Richard declares and Rose leans forward.

'Finally.'

Richard sighs and rubs his face. 'It is true I am accompanying Lucy but I did have a question I wished to ask. It's about my fiancée. As the anniversary of her death approaches I've been dreaming of her as of late. And I wanted to know why. Why she's appearing in my dreams, wondering if she has a message. And I wanted to know why…she did what she did.'

'I'm sorry for your loss.' Leah responds and Richard gives her a short nod.

'Thank you.'

'Why what?' The Doctor pauses by Richard and he buries his face in his hands before straightening up and clearing his throat.

'Why she took her own life.'

The Doctor appears over Rose's shoulder and she looks up to him. Their silent conversation begins. That's a very important piece of information that had been left out. Now they need to figure out what to do with it. Maggie and Katie have been watching the figure lingering, briefly a hand reached out of the mist and it looked as though that feminine hand had been reaching for Richard before retreating to the safety of the shroud.

'Here's an uncomfortable question. Are you sure your fiancée committed suicide and…it wasn't something else? Something nefarious. Done by…someone she knew?' The Doctor questions and Richard glowers at him, livid he's insinuating that he murdered her.

'Of course I am!'

'I'm exhausting all angles, you see. You've already conveniently left out information. I had to be sure you weren't lying again.'

'I hardly see why this is relevant.' Richard folds his arms and Rose gapes at him.

She lets out a short laugh of disbelief. 'Ever hear of a vengeful spirit?'

'No.'

'Yeah, see, spirits are smart. And they get angry when you lie. So say…if you did kill your fiancée and she was in the room with us now and heard you telling us you didn't…imagine how angry she'd be. Angry enough to say…exact revenge?' Rose arches her eyebrow and waits for his reaction. He's genuinely upset at their false accusations. Richard bangs his fists on the table and leans forward towards Rose in a flourish.

'I loved her!'

'Then why she'd take her own life?' Rose presses harder and Richard balls his fists on the table.

'I don't know! That's why I'm here.'

The Doctor shakes his head. 'That's a real response to being falsely accused of murder. Something's not right. There's more. We're missing it.'

Rose taps her fingers on the table as she goes over what she remembers about the events so far, even if the spirit left an impression on her like Odette had done, by accident or not she never found out. 'The impression I got from this spirit was pure contempt for you. If you don't know of any enemies in your life maybe, we need to start looking at associates.'

The room temperature drops suddenly and everyone gets on edge. The cold front passes as quickly as it appears and Rose looks up and over to the Doctor. They nod and the Doctor claps his hands.

'Right then. All of you, out. Get out of this house while Rose and I figure out what's going on?'

Lucy scoffs and folds her arms. 'Let me repeat what you want us to do: leave. You want us to leave so you can figure this anomaly. You want us to trust you, and the woman who get possessed by the devil-…'

'Spirit.' Rose corrects and Lucy throws her a dirty glare. The Doctor clears his throat.

'Yes, that's what I said. I don't aim to repeat myself. This place is dangerous. Believe it or not, I'm not entirely cold a person and I care about your safety. So to keep you safe, you need to leave. Now.'

Everyone remains seated exchanging long, awkward stares wondering silently if they are to be trusting of these strangers and Rose hates to admit it but Lucy makes a good point. She was just possessed. What the hell can she do to help? Haha, house the spirit? Good luck with that. Damn. Rose sighs and rubs her face with her hands a few times before exhaling. Why isn't anyone listening. The Doctor frowns at the group as they continue to debate whether he's serious, and in a swift motion, he's pulled out Richard's chair.

'But sir…we can, we can help you.' Katie insists, motioning to Maggie who is nodding her head slowly, willing the Doctor to agree with her sister. The Doctor shakes his head instead.

'While I don't doubt your gifts, at this point, you're all more of a liability. Having Rose possessed is one thing. But I can't stand idly by and let innocent people become victims. Especially you, girls. She could tap that power you both have. Then what?' The Doctor wonders rhetorically and Leah is the first to finally stand and Rose breathes a sigh of relief. Hopefully the others will follow.

'This man is right. Laws. I couldn't forgive myself if something were to happen to any of you, but especially my sisters. We should leave. Immediately. While we are still able to.' Leah agrees and she motions for the girls to stand. They reluctantly do so and grasp each other's hand. Leah takes theirs in her own and Richard looks over to Lucy who has nothing but contempt in her eyes. Richard has to take her by the arm and he follows Leah out of the parlour and into the hallway.

The Doctor follows them to the parlour door and watches them heading for the entrance when he calls to them. 'If we need you, we'll holler.' He shuts the parlour door and turns to Rose who is spinning the poker in her hand as she meanders around the room.

'We have so little to go on.' She decides and the Doctor leans against the fireplace. No doubt something is there beside him. Never mind the fact that he feels as though he is being thoroughly watched, the energy is different over here. Not negative, or positive. He can't describe it. It's just…palpable.

'I know,' The Doctor sighs and he looks to the ceiling. 'What have we got so far?'

'Two girls who are genuine mediums?' Rose offers and pauses to stare at the fireplace. She's certain she saw something move against the shadows.

'Yes. And two people who have come for answers to questions.'

'We're ruling Leah out?'

'Yes. I think so. Her two sitters want answers. One wants to know who her father was and the other wants to know why his soon to be wife took her own life.' The Doctor moves from the fireplace feeling the drain of energy getting worse. And yet oddly no cold spots. How peculiar.

'It wasn't murder.' Rose points the poker and the Doctor and he's frowning.

'Right. What was so bad that she did that?'

'Depression? Or what do they call it in 1850? Hysteria? Maybe she was committed to an institution?' Rose offers and the Doctor nods his head.

'I'm sensing a pattern here.'

'Nearly a hundred years before Odette, of course.' Rose sighs and she moves to stand beside him. He puts his arm around her shoulders and draws her closer. If she questions why, he'll simply say he's ensuring that she's truly all right. Their past relationship…what they had, he isn't sure as of yet if it's something he can offer her.

'Let's go with that, best thing we have so far.' He replies and Rose presses her lips together as they begin to bounce ideas off one another.

'Right then. She potentially suffered from hysteria, melancholy. Fiancé commits her to an institution. She's unable to handle the betrayal and sadly decides to end her own life.' Rose surmises and the Doctor shakes his head before nodding it.

'Say that's the case – why would Richard claim he'd want to come here to discover the reason?' He wonders and Rose groans. There's a big hole in her theory.

'Cover up?'

'Mm, I don't get that. We should have gotten more information before we sent them away.' The Doctor tells her and Rose hates to admit that she agrees with him.

'Their own safety.' She reminds him.

'Right. I only wish we knew if our theory was correct.'

The Doctor's question is answered by two thunderous bangs above their heads. They both jump and Rose instinctively grabs for the Doctor's arm. They are silent and unmoving; Rose can hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. Nothing else comes after those monstrous knocks. Slowly Rose and the Doctor make eye contact.

'I guess that's our answer. Knock once for yes, twice for no.'

The Doctor watches Rose and shakes his head before offering his warning. 'Don't.'

Rose lifts her gaze to the ceiling. 'Am I right?' Silence and then a solitary knock so loud it rattles the trinkets placed around the room. 'Damn. I was. We're back to square one.'

The Doctor begins to pace around the room again. 'Great. Now what?'

The parlour door opens in a flourish and Leah is standing there with fear in her eyes, looking rather white. 'We…we can't get out. There is nothing but…walls when we open the doors. I've tried the front, the side and rear door. Nothing! We're trapped here.' Leah's voice fades and the Doctor brushes past her while Rose reaches for Leah's hand and she grabs it tightly.

'Don't worry, it'll be okay. We'll get you all out, yeah? Take a deep breath…' Rose trails off and looks over Leah's shoulder to Lucy, Richard and the girls huddling together in the middle of the hallway. 'Right you lot, back in here. At least we'll have eyes on everyone.'

Rose watches the Doctor heading out to the hallway and foyer, she tells everyone to sit while she gets a feel for the room. What's the best solution for everyone? To keep them here and safe while she and the Doctor go out and explore the house, looking for clues about this vengeful spirit before they expel it? There isn't really a safe spot for anyone. Maybe holding iron will prevent possession, but the real potential victim here is Richard. For reasons he truly is unaware of or will not disclose to them. Things were so much easier the last time when they faced Odette. Did she mention she has problems with change?

'Rose, come here.' The Doctor calls and Rose holds her hand out to the group to stay put and she can hear them murmuring as she joins the Doctor in the foyer by the front door.

'What's going on?' She wonders and the Doctor directs her to the front door by her shoulders.

'Ready?' He questions and Rose shrugs her shoulders as the Doctor reaches for the door handle and opens it. Rose widens her eyes.

There is nothing there but a brick wall, her gaze falls on the window about ten feet from the door. Rose opens it and again there is nothing there either, but a veil of darkness. She's tempted to put her hand into it but is afraid that something could reach out and pull her in. That's what happens in horror films, yeah?

'Damn,' Rose turns back to the Doctor as he nods. She walks back to the doorway and presses on the brick. It's solid. 'Do you think it's an illusion?'

'One way to find out,' The Doctor replies and Rose crosses her arms and motions to the door. 'What? I'm not the one who thinks it is. Go on.'

'You want me to run at a brick wall?'

'Your theory,' He counters and Rose smirks and shakes her head. 'Well, I want to see if your natural reaction will be to stop. I promise I wouldn't laugh if you do run into it. After all, it's in the name of science.'

'So tempting, but no thanks, it seems solid.' Rose tells him and he smiles at her.

'What to do now? Our…friends in there are on the fence about what's happening. We've got no leads on who or what this spirit is after other than exacting revenge on one person in particular and we banished her.'

Rose rolls her eyes. 'What you want me to wander around the home with my arms flailing and shouting 'come and get me?''

The Doctor opens his mouth and then shakes his head as though he's changed his mind about what he was going to say. 'No, I much rather like you in your present state. Not wandering around the place housing a vengeful ghost.'

Rose rubs her arms. 'It's been too quiet.'

'I don't think so. You haven't felt it?' The Doctor wonders and Rose frowns, taking a step closer to him and gripping his hand. How could she be blind? The room temperature has dropped. Something's back. The Doctor closes the door with his foot and they lean against it, trying to think of a plan.

'You think it's just here?' She feels something breathing on the back of her neck. When she turns around there is nothing. The Doctor is silent, watching the end of the hallway stretching before them. 'What are you seeing?'

'You don't see them?' The Doctor tilts his head and watches the small girls in white dresses grip hands. One has brown hair and the other is blonde, they look only a few years apart.

Rose sees nothing at the end of the hallway. The Doctor hasn't stopped studying it either. He sees the blonde girl bend down to her sister and whisper something. The dark haired one nods her head but fear fills her eyes. More apparitions? How haunted is this place or is this just residual hauntings because they tore a hole somewhere that needs to be stitched? How do you stitch something like that?

Screams erupt from the parlour and everyone comes pouring out in a frenzied panic. Rose is just able to catch Maggie running upstairs to the second floor while Katie grips onto Leah who shields her from whatever it is that has scared them. Richard and Lucy come out at the end and run towards them. Leah takes the hint and follows them, dragging Katie with her. She nearly trips on the hem of her dress a few times to make it over to them. Leah stops in front of them and fixes her hair that has fallen into her eyes, her hands tremble and Katie is so scared that she clings to Rose tightly. She and the Doctor exchange looks.

'What's going on?' Rose questions and everyone is reluctant to talk. Lucy decides to take the lead. Her shrill voice is accusatory; her words are blunt and sharp.

'You two! Who the hell put you two in charge? Laws! You think you know what's best?! Your brilliant idea of keeping everyone together nearly got us killed! You left us vulnerable! This, this thing-…'

'You should have seen it, truly it was disgusting!' Leah breaks in and Lucy nods her head.

'It tried to attack us! Now, I want you to get me out of here! Without haste!'

'What did you see? What did the apparition try to do?' The Doctor attempts to gain control of the hysteria.

'Are you stupid?! I just told you, it tried to kill us!' Lucy screeches and Richard shouts her name.

'You need to listen to me, cousin. These people are trying. You saw for yourself, we are unable to get out. You need to calm yourself down. You're slipping into a frenzy.' Richard scolds and they dissolve into an argument. They argue about her and the Doctor's qualifications. Her attire for some strange reason, the reason they wanted to come here and Lucy's pissy attitude. This is exhausting.

Rose sighs. She hears the knocking continuing. The louder Richard and Lucy become the louder the knocking. There's the fighting aspect again. Rose presses her hand to her head. Leah realises that Maggie isn't with them and she feels her heart skip a beat. She disappears, unseen by the others and begins to search the main floor, peering into the kitchen, the drawing room and the pantry. Nothing.

'Sir? Maggie and I saw something else…that's why we screamed.' Katie explains and Rose and the Doctor stare at her. Rose bends down to her level and holds her hand tightly.

'What did you and Maggie see?'

'A distorted figure. It had odd limbs that stuck out at odd angles. Crawling towards us, it looked as though every time it took a step its limbs became disjointed, slipping out of place. It called both our names. The closer it got…it reached out a hand to us. We ran after that…'

The Doctor looks down to Rose and she is stunned. He's about to ask Katie a follow up question when Leah rushes into the room and everyone is silenced. Expect the knocking. Loud and unrelenting.

'I can't find Maggie! She's gone!' Leah cries and frantically twists the rumpled fabric of her skirts in her hands. Tears threaten to fall from her eyes and Rose shakes her head. Katie widens her eyes and begins to stare at something at the end of the hallway. It makes her smile, so she sits down and continues to stare.

'It's fine. I saw her run upstairs. She's probably just scared and is hiding. I'll get her.' Rose offers and the Doctor nods his head. He hates to see her go alone but he wants an eye on everyone.

'Right. I want the rest of you to follow me back into the parlour,' The Doctor begins but everyone is silent. Even Richard and Lucy have stopped their argument to gawk at him. They dissolve into mindless protests. 'Enough! I am going to question each of you one by one until I have answers I deem satisfying.'

'Back into that parlour? Are you insane?!' Lucy demands and the Doctor begins walking towards the parlour and shrugs.

'It's entirely possible and probably accurate. Good thing I am too, or else this would never work. Now, let's go.'

Reluctantly everyone follows the Doctor but Katie. Rose bends down and smiles at her, wondering if everything was okay. She nods and points to Rose what she's been staring at. The ceiling beam. There is nothing there. Katie crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue.

After telling Rose what she's been witnessing, she jumps up at the sound of Leah calling her name. She rushes past the Doctor and grips onto Leah's hand. Rose slowly rises and the Doctor frowns. Rose walks in a daze towards the stairs and pauses when the Doctor tells her to be careful and guarded. She tells him to remain calm and not to pick fights. Rose exhales. The Doctor shuts the parlour door. This is only going to take a second. Quick scan of the second floor and nothing more.

The black mass that had been by the fireplace earlier stands by the door, watching as the vengeful spirit ascends the stairs behind the blonde woman.

* * *

What a strange world she's entered. Whatever grabbed her and pulled her into the armoire had it scared her senseless she couldn't even scream. Because she didn't hear it and couldn't arm herself against that threat. It had been silent. The moment she realised something was amiss had been when she felt the cold, clammy hands grip her mouth and waist and yank her in. When she had opened her eyes she had been surprised to see the exact same room she'd just been pulled from but only hues of monochromatic shades of blues and greys. It's cold too, logic tells her she's probably surrounded by spirits and ghosts and yet oddly she sees not a soul. But she can hear murmurs. Whispers calling her name. Laughter. Childish at that. Yeah, not a room she wants to spend any length of time in.

Rose continues to meander around the room, lacing her hands behind her head, attempting to think of a what to do, how best to attack this oddity she's in now. Wondering if it's truly that simple to overcome, Rose turns around and faces the armoire. She stares at it for a little while longer and gathers the courage, truly she doesn't know what to expect.

When she tosses open the doors and parts the clothing there in a swift motion. There is nothing there. Course, there wasn't anything there the last time either. So she decides to mimic her actions from previously and turns around. But after several minutes nothing happens and she grows frustrated. Of course, it's never that easy! How can she let everyone know that she's here and somewhat safe? Wherever here happens to be. Her gaze flicks to the door. What's lying on the other side?

Rose bites her lip and presses her ear to the door. The floorboards creak. Someone is walking out in the hall. A lot of someones. Are they looking for her? Is it that spirit from earlier? Does she have anything iron? No. Her hands hovers over the door and she inhales. She flings the door open. There is no one down either side of the halls and yet the footsteps continue. She steps out. All activity stops and the whispers commence, shadows move across the walls and Rose feels her heart rate increase, pounding in her ears.

She sees the stairs leading to the lower level and makes a made dash for it. Laughter surrounds her. Childish giggling. The shadows continue to dance along the walls. When she gets down into the foyer she looks around. But there is nothing but the shadows moving along the walls. Yet still she sees not a soul. So she follows them, as they lead her around in circles, through the parlour and into the kitchen, whispering conversations she can't hear. Loudly and softly, childish and shrill. She's uncomforted and wraps her arms around herself, is she blending in and that's why no one is approaching her? This place is so isolating and lonely. There is something in the air that is affecting her mind. She can feel it; the whispering lingers in her mind even if the surrounding area is silent. How much of that is this place toying with her sanity. Is she trapped here until she eventually becomes what those shadow things are? Did they used to be people at one point too? Oh…that's unsettling. Maybe there could be someone else here that hasn't yet made the

'Hello?'

She covers her mouth as her voice echoes around, why'd she do that?! Is she trying to draw attention to herself? She panics as she doubles back into the parlour. This entire realm is like copy of the Fox sisters' home and this time, there are shadow figures, well they are loosely holding a form. And yet when she re-entered the parlour those figures had turned to look at her. Rose swallows. She feels as though they're beginning to judge her. One of them turns fully to stare at her. Is that who grabbed her, is that the spirit that possessed her? Rose takes a step back, did it just come towards her? Oh no, now all the other shadows are facing her. And they are surely coming towards her. She bites her lip and high tails it out of the parlour, the moment she steps into the hallway she feels as though she's just passed through something. The air became thick and heavy. Then the invisible laughter erupted. It abruptly stops at the sound of the knocking echoing all around her. This is testing her sanity. Maybe the safest thing is so just simply get back into the bedroom and sit while she attempted to figure a way out of here. She lifts her gaze and is stunned to see a black mass in front of her. She gasps and jumps back, turning over her shoulder at the feeling of something looming over her. Another mass. She notices them plotted in random spots in the foyer. Oh god, they're advancing. She widens her eyes and darts around the one mass and back towards the stairs. She skips the steps and runs down the hallway but there strangely are no doors she can hide in. Rose shakes her head and runs her hands over the bare wall where the door had been naught but ten minutes ago. She bangs her fist against the wall. This is impossible, how can this be? She doubles back to the top of the stairs and widens her eyes.

At the bottom of the stairs are the shadow figures. There are at least fifteen of them. And even though they have no facial features, Rose can feel them staring into her soul, judging her, learning her weaknesses and how to exploit them. She knows they're going to throw everything they have at her now that they have her in this realm?

Footsteps erupt behind her and Rose gasps, turning over her shoulder to see something walking behind her and she widens her eyes. The dark overcoat and hat, this person is from the 40s or 50s to her. Maybe even earlier. How can that be, if it's 1850? Is this realm out of space and time and once these things harvest people they just…sit here? Rose shifts her gaze back to the bottom of the stairs. It's empty. The shadows are gone. Rose exhales and decides to follow the man as he ducks into a solitary door on the left. She presses her lips together and is about to follow him in when something forces her to stop. A hushed conversation erupts, soft voices. She's comforted. Minimally. However something makes her hold her breath.

Rose pauses outside the doorway. She inhales. It smells medicinal and sterile. She peers into the room and widens her eyes. Where the hell is she?! It's like an old hospital room of the 1950s. What the hell is going on, does she have some sort of spirit guide that is showing her its life or something? Weird, and why would the spirit show her a scene unfolding in the 1950s? Because there is a woman hidden partially behind a curtain, and a man lingering at the end of her bed. She can't see who it is because his back is towards her. But the woman cradles a baby in her arms, that much she can see. Why is everyone's faces obstructed. And more importantly, how the hell does she get out of this weird realm? Is this going to be like poltergeist? She already dreads the thought. She begins to pay attention when the woman speaks.

'You don't have stand there, come sit.'

'No, I'm okay. I should be going anyway. I just…wanted to make sure you were fine. Er, that both of you were fine,' He pauses and sighs. 'This day is weird…'

Those voices…so hushed and quiet. But so familiar. In a sort of distorted way. Now that she thinks about it…so does that man's broad shoulders…Rose grips the door frame and exhale. Cold breath in front of her. She isn't alone. She turns over her shoulder her heart thumping wildly. Nothing but emptiness and a hallway. The blue tinged hues of the atmosphere remain untouched. Something is lingering here…those shadows?

'We're both fine. Come and sit. Please?'

Rose watches the man reluctantly do so, again he keeps his back to her as he moves around the bed. He looks at the baby in the woman's arms. He smiles. Is this reality. If so, then whose? And why show her this? This is just such a mess. She needs to focus on getting the hell out of here, or at least communicating with the Doctor about her whereabouts.

'Cute kid,' The man comments and pushes the blanket back that had been hiding the baby's face. 'Still never answered my question earlier. Cause your comments are still leading my mind to only one place. Is this baby mine?'

There is a long drawn out pause. The woman is silent. Well if that silence isn't indicative of a yes, she doesn't know what is.

'Would it matter what my reply is?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Because that means this baby belongs to me. And…I wouldn't know how to feel.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes.'

'It was a mistake,' The woman begins and Rose winces. Ouch. That statement's gonna leave a mark. 'This, wasn't supposed to happen.'

'What was a mistake? This meeting? The kid? Or me finding out about the two?'

'All of it.' The woman states firmly and Rose shakes her head. That woman lacks tact. And yet Rose feels herself identifying a lot with this woman. Like almost in an uncomfortable way. She's able to draw so many parallels. She bites her lip. She hopes this isn't going in the direction she thinks it is.

'You certainly tell it like it is…' The man sighs and holds out his arms as the woman offers him the baby. Holding that baby has made the man stiff and uncomfortable. His posture rigid but he never moves his gaze from that baby. An instant connection is made.

'I know. I'm sorry. I wish it hadn't happened like this. I didn't want this for me. Or you. Or him.'

'Him?'

'Yeah. Your son.'

Rose does feel herself smiling a bit. That's kinda nice. In a weird sort of way. She frowns. There's the connection again. God, why does she feel as though she knows these people? Or that feeling that this is real life. This _could_ happen. That's what scares her…because like the man said…this conversation. Her mind is walking into one place only. She hopes those people in that room…

Rose presses her hands to the sides of her head and squeezes her eyes shut. Why show her this?! It isn't going to happen, is it playing with her? Is it showing her what she desires most? Because…if this scene is what she thinks it is…yeah, she's desired that…

'He's…rather…perfect.'

'Yeah? It's too early to tell…but I think he looks like you.' The woman, now Rose is nearly convinced it's her sitting in that hospital bed, gushes to the man.

'I hope not; it wouldn't be fair to him…'

'Shut up…'

There is silence. Rose feels her eyes well with tears. Does she desire this? Who is doing this to her? Why? What does this mean to her? If someone's doing it to mess with her head and blur the lines of reality and a dreamscape, then job well done. Witnessing this is shaking her to her core.

'What happens now?'

'We disappear…'

'What? Why?'

'Because I've royally screwed with history. Your history. I'm sorry.'

'You can't just…leave with him…' The man states and Rose can hear the panic in his voice.

'I have to…I made a terrible mistake. Coincidences or fate or whatever led me here again…only to run into you…none of this was supposed to happen.' The woman's voice breaks. The man reaches forward touches her arm.

'But he's mine as well. And…I want to see more of him. Mistake or not.'

'It isn't like I can pop in on weekends. It can't work like that. History has been recorded. And this little footnote will not get out. So, he'll come with me. I'll take him back to my time and raise him.'

'Without me?'

'Yes.'

'I didn't know you could be this cold.'

'Don't do that. Please. My heart is broken already. Looking at you with him…destroys me a little bit more each second that passes. I'm memorising every little detail of you with him. What time of day it is, what you're wearing, how the sunlight is reflecting off you…how many times he's opened his eyes to look at you…I don't need your cruel words to add to the pieces my heart's already in.'

'I'm sorry. Don't cry…'

Rose watches the man lean forward to rub the tears from the woman's face and as he does so, Rose's hand whips to her own cheek because she feels as though someone has touched her own as well. This is just way too intense for her. She hates her emotions being played with as they currently are. A small click goes off.

'What was that?'

'My phone. I want at least one picture of you two together.'

'You're still set on, on going?'

'Yes.' Rose doesn't miss the woman's voice shakes, quivers. She wants to stay but knows she can't. Because if Rose knows herself…and she's entirely convinced it is her, then she knows she needs to be strong to set things right.

'This isn't fair. What are you going to tell him when he starts asking questions about who his father is?'

'I will say that his father was someone incredibly important to American history. Who changed the way things worked in the business that he was in. Someone who was so smart about so many different things, someone who made me laugh and whom I loved so very much.'

'But not enough to change history for.' The man sighs and Rose turns away, tears still in her eyes. This is her. It has to be. Why show her her hearts darkest desires when she knows it won't come true? Is this another way to play with her? To make her an emotion mess so her guard will drop further? Well, they don't know it but she's quite vulnerable right now.

The woman's voice is broken. 'You know I can't. No matter how much I want to.'

'But he's ours…'

'Yes. He is. And he's so entirely perfect and innocent. But I got careless. And this is what happens when I get careless. I have screwed up three people's lives and robbed you of a chance that you aren't even supposed to get.'

'That isn't something…' The man pauses and sighs. 'I know you're trying to make this easier. But it's not. I know it was commonality for us many years ago…but…'

'I know…'

'Can't you just send a, a letter or something? Once and a while?'

'No paper trail.'

'I'll burn them,' The man pauses, attempting a new angle but the woman remains silent. 'Photographs?'

'Can be saved.'

'Can we meet somewhere? Once a year, somewhere. Anywhere? Neutral? Another country?' The man offers desperately and Rose looks away. This is so painful to watch. She hopes that whatever this is she's witnessing…never comes true.

'You're under tight enough restrictions as it is.'

'I'll move heaven and earth to see him.'

'I know. Which leads to mistakes, exposure and vulnerabilities.'

'I'm-…'

'Desperate. I know. Can't you see how mad I am at myself for letting this happen. I've ruined your life…'

'You haven't ruined it. Okay, well, yes maybe a little bit by being so damn stubborn. Aren't rules meant to be broken?'

'Some are, yes. Or at least the rules can be bent. But not in this case. I have messed with history. You keep glossing over that fact.' The woman counters and the man scoffs. The baby makes a few restless sounds however the man manages to quiet him down again.

'Because I refuse to believe I'm anyone that important to history. Not the way you make it sound, anyway.'

'And I'm telling you to believe me. I know. God, when I first found out it startled me. Made me question a lot of things.'

'Damn your morality. It's quite all right to get a little depraved. I speak from a life time of experience.' The man responds, hopeful enough to entice the woman to change her mind. Rose hears her laugh a bit. At least the tension is getting halved.

'And I did, didn't I?'

'I guess so. I just wish you'd loosen up about this.' The man replies and Rose can tell he's slowly giving up his hope about seeing his baby again. She can't imagine his heartache on that matter. Holding a baby, he'll never get to see in his life again. However…if that's truly herself in that bed…and she does know herself quite well, at least she thinks so…then he won't remember this encounter anyway. There is never to be loose ends. Ever.

'Welcome to my stubborness.'

'I love you?' The man offers and the woman laughs lightly again.

'Getting sentimental in your older years?' The woman teases. The man shifts uncomfortably.

'You're the only one I'll ever get sentimental about. You know sides of me no one else does. I cared - care - a great deal for you.'

'Likewise…'

Rose finds her attention waning as she's been watching a black mass steadily growing in size in the ceiling corner of the little hospital room. It spreads as though a thick coating of mould is flowering out over time. Rose can faintly hear the conversation going on but the mass keeps growing. She digs her hands into the door frame and watch as it slowly begins to slide down the wall and towards her. It bypasses the woman's hospital bed and the pair don't even acknowledge that it's there. Okay, so this is just coming after her.

The mass gets about half way across the floor and Rose finds herself gaping at it with wide eyes and frozen to her spot. What emerges from that massive shadow makes her stomach flip but still she doesn't move. A skeletal body, well to be more accurate, the upper portion of a skeletal body - where the lower half is, Rose doesn't want to know - but what's disturbing is that it still has flesh on some of it's bones, draping off of others…even some stringy hair can be seen in the awkward hospital lighting. It's crawling towards her. And it's closing ground quickly. Rose gasps as something clicks and she starts to back away, widening her eyes as the skeletal thing quickens its pace as well.

Rose dashes into the hallway and continues to run, not paying attention her surroundings and grabbing the first door she can. It doesn't open. It's like something is holding it shut as she yanks on it. She turns over her shoulder. The creature has stopped and eyes her up with its vacant eye sockets. Now is not the time to panic, Tyler, get yourself together…Rose tells herself over and over again. She takes a step back and creature claws its way towards her, shifting its weight strangely side to side on its hands as it makes its way towards her.

Rose exhales a cloud of breath in front of her and she turns around fleeing. She can't scream because her throat won't allow her to, she doesn't want to draw attention to herself for whatever else is lurking and she's frozen, mentally. She can hear that thing inching its way to her. In her haste she pauses to open random doors but none of the ones she's grabbed open for her. Which is causing her panic levels to spike. She's running out of hallway space and doors to attempt to open. Yanking and pulling on the handles is getting her no where. It's as though something is keeping her out of those rooms.

Rose swallows and comes to an abrupt halt. She exhales her fear and stares out the blackened window. She gasps, the creature is picking up speed. She doesn't want to think or imagine what that thing could do to her. You die in this realm you die for real, wouldn't you? There is no physical body left in her realm. Nothing left to let anyone know what'd happen. She swallows and her eyes dart quickly to the only door left on the right hand side. Rose dashes for the knob and twists. Nothing. She yanks harder, cursing as she puts her foot on the wall and tugs. Nothing. Okay, fine. Rose straightens up and hears that thing hiss at her. Go faster, faster, her mind tells her and Rose drives the heel of her shoe into the door. Nothing. It rattles and shakes. So Rose throws her shoulder into it. It gives, oh god it gives a bit. She can hear the nails of the creature dig into the floor and Rose takes a few more steps back before running and shoving her shoulder into the door once more. It gives just a bit more and Rose can feel the breeze that passes through the fractured door frame. She takes another step back and drives her foot into the door. It fractures just enough that she can push it open and slide through the opening. She shuts it and breathes a sigh of relief, closing her eyes.

Seconds pass before her eyes snap open and realisation hits her. She's broken the door so how will she keep out the…?

She lets out a squeak of surprise as she's shoved forward by the thing trying to get inside with her. Rose flips around to face the door and braces herself against it, throwing as much weight as she can behind it and attempting to discourage the creature from getting in. It keeps shoving her forward, and she shifts to the side to get out of the way as the creature's skeletal arm reaches around and fishes for some kind of contact. Rose digs her heels into the ground but is pushed forward anyway, she worries what will happen when and if that thing gets inside. She can feel the beads of sweat roll down her temple from the spike in adrenaline and she bites her lip to focus more of her energy on keeping that damned horror out.

Hotness spreads down her leg as she hisses and then cries out from the shock. And her own anger at allowing her leg to be moved into a position of being struck. The blood runs down in three distinct fingernail trails down her left leg. She curses and allows the door to give way a slight bit before ramming it as hard as she can into the creature. It lets out a horrific shriek that takes all of Rose's might not to cover her ears. She repeats her actions until the door manages to click shut. She pauses and listens. Her heart is pounding wildly in her chest. Silence. Oh, is that good or bad? She swallows, her mouth dry. Did it give up? Did she?

Rose pants and closes her eyes, trying to sharpen her senses and truly listen to her surroundings. It does her no good, all she can hear is the sound of her own heart beating wildly in her ears. All of that comes to an abrupt halt when Rose hears the springs of a mattress squeak. As though a body is moving in it. She swallows the dryness again and carefully opens her eyes.

Sprawled before her is a shanty like apartment room. Those often found in the tenement sections, like she used to accompany Charlie with when he'd have to go down to the Lower East Side to visit an associate. He made her wait in a shop for him. Perfect for this time period of 1850 Rochester. The room is stuffy and the holed curtains are drawn, though a few rays of sunlight do manage to pierce through, colouring the dirty wooden floor with spots of light. The air reeks with a metallic smell of blood. What the hell is going on now?

The room is scarcely furnished. An armoire, a vanity and stool and a single bed with a wooden bucket by the head of the bed on the left and a small table by the head of the right side. With a body that is sitting up in it. Feet over the right side. Rose presses herself against the door to make herself smaller as the figure gets uneasily to their feet.

The cotton nightgown is loose and dingy, even in the specks of sunlight. Rose swallows. The woman's dark hair sits in loose waves and she looks emaciated.

'You've finally visited. I knew you would. Did you come to take me out of this retched place? There's so much sickness here. Cholera's gone through and now consumption. I think I have it. I'm scared. It was just a cough at first. But then I started coughing up blood. Please. Take me out of here. If I am to die, then I wish to be in the comfort of a home so I feel like I belong.

'You promised me. You swore to me that you wouldn't forget me! But you did. It's been two years! While I was forced to earn my living in the most devious ways while you sat in luxury with your soon to be husband. You promised to take me with you. But you didn't…' The woman hasn't faced her, however then she begins to cough. It looks draining and exhausting. It wracks her body, the coughing fit causes her to struggle to regain her breath. When she finally stops, she drops her hand to her side, wiping the blood on her nightgown. Rose's heart aches for her.

'Who…who are you waiting for, miss?' Rose is startled by how soft her own voice is. The woman's broken laugh echoes around her.

'I am waiting for someone who will never come to see me. Her station is above mine. Why would she lower herself to slum with us rejects?'

'I…I don't know…' Rose breathes and presses herself closer to the door. She's beginning to piece together a small vision of this poor woman's life. Rejected by her family she's been cursed to live out the remainder of her life plagued by consumption. Rose pities her.

The woman turns around finally and Rose's hands fly to her mouth. She's gaunt, her cheekbones protrude sharply on her face. She's pale, dark circles under her eyes. There's no life left in those grey eyes. There's nothing but a void. A smear of blood streaks across her right cheek. Rose swallows a lump.

'She will let me die in obscurity. What good am I to her?' The woman wonders sarcastically and her thin body is wracked with another coughing spell. Rose nearly reaches her hand out but is unsure what she's truly witnessing is even there. If she touches this woman, will she vanish into thin air?

'Can I…help?' Rose offers quietly and then immediately questions her motives for that.

'There is little you can do but hasten my death from this wretched ailment.' The woman responds when she regains her composure. Her lips still have a ruby sheen from where the blood has been coughed up. When she smiles at Rose, her teeth even bare the mark of blood. Who knew consumption was so…devastatingly horrific?

'Will you tell me…where I am? Or…how to get out of here?'

'You are in a world neither here nor there. A gap between life and death that has taken the manifestation of the home you were currently in,' She explains before she smiles at Rose again and takes another step towards her. Rose backs into the door once more, forgetting it's there and fishes around for the handle. 'You hear the whispers of those amongst us unable to take a physical form. This is a realm that will jar your memories and question all you think you know.'

'Yeah, it's done that already.' Rose confirms and is still unable to ascertain where this woman is an enemy or a friend. If neither, what could she want? This is not her own memory; it must be this woman's. Is she trapped here like she is, and this is the room her mind can remember? If she helps this woman will she help them both?

'It will do more than that, you can be certain.'

'I just want to get the hell out of here and help my cohorts make heads or tails of this situation so we can rectify it. It's dangerous to leave a gap like this open. Those girls didn't know what they were doing.' Rose explains hoping that the woman will offer some guidance to steer them through this ordeal. She's the first person she's met that is tangible in the sense that she is having a conversation with her and it isn't one of her own memories coming back to haunt her.

'When dabbling in the spirit world, one never knows what one may get.' The woman agrees and Rose eyes her carefully.

'Did you hear them calling to you? Were you part of…that display earlier? Or were you the one who saved me?' Rose questions and the woman smiles at her. In that smile are telling emotions. Rose widens her eyes. Please let her be wrong…

'Of course I heard them calling. We all did. A chance to speak to the living? Who could pass an opportunity like that up? Those foolish girls opened the door but a crack and we came bursting through. You became the perfect sound piece to let that simpleton Richard know he would pay for his transgressions. Better still he could not remember me.

'Alas, it matters not. I will reveal myself to him as I take his life from him. The way he took mine. I will make him utter my name, I will draw it from his lips so that the last words he will ever speak will be my name. Then she will feel the pain I did.' The woman seethes and Rose feels her heart beating in her chest as she attempts to open the door but the woman holds her hand out and Rose is flung to the ceiling. Trapped there she watches the woman's listless eyes hold her own.

'We'll stop you. I may be here, but my better half is working on a solution. You won't win.' Rose promises and the woman shrugs.

'You cannot do much in this realm. I will take my revenge against those who have wronged me. If you continue to get in my way, I will end you. Take this as a warning if you must. You are here for a reason. If I must collect all of you and put you here out of the way, then so be it. I will not rest until he's paid for his wrongs. Death smiles at murder.'

Rose falls to the ground with a loud thud on the ground. She picks herself up slowly and looks around the room, but the sickly woman is gone. She turns around in a small circle and exhales slowly. There is no breath in front of her. Truly she is alone. Even the sunlight that had speckled the floor seems to have dulled. She swallows and steps into the centre of the room.

'I'm here to warn you, if you get in _my_ way, I'll make sure you pay. I will protect innocent lives. No one is allowed to take the life of another on my watch. I _will_ get out of here and I _will_ stop you. So, what say you?!' Rose shouts to nothing and is met only with silence for the briefest of moments.

Invisible footsteps echo around her and the whispers begin once again. The temperature drops and a thunderous bang erupts from above her head. Her immediate reaction is to cover her head. Abruptly she is knocked back through the door violently, as though she had just been on the receiving end of someone's kick. The force in which she is thrown into the hall walls cause the plaster to crack and fall around her feet. It knocks the wind from her and Rose falls to her hands and knees. As she slowly catches her breath and slowly, while still kneeling, lifts her gaze to the room the woman is standing there again, glaring at her. Her grey eyes look almost black and she smirks at Rose.

'You will not withstand the storm.' The woman warns and Rose throws her own smirk back at the woman.

'Oh…that's where you're wrong. I am the storm. You want a fight, I'll bring a war.' Rose replies and the woman merely nods her head before snapping her fingers. She vanishes and the door slams shut, echoing around her.

Slowly she pulls herself to her feet and exhales, hoping that summons of courage is loitering around somewhere. Nothing cold, however the invisible footsteps are lingering. People are here that she can't observe but who can observe her. The creaking continues to claw in her mind creating a rut, something she wants to ignore but can't.

Shaking she continues down the hall wrapping her arms around herself in a vain attempt to soothe her nerves. She swallows and heads down towards the staircase. She's panting. All of these, these visions, the messages and glimpses into her life and those that linger around her is starting to mess with her mind. She can hear the whispers from unknown sources growing louder. They talk over one another and as she continues down the hall, the lighting grows dim and she can feel the hands of whatever is around her reaching out and gently grabbing at her, she finds herself falling into a daze. Listening to the incoherent babbling engulf her, struggling to make sense of it as the sane part of her mind, that voice within becomes smothered by the darkness. Sanity is so fleeting. How does she get out of here? Can she? Who will help her? Everything is so loud, everything is making her question things around her. This world toys with her emotions, tearing her down until there is nothing left, taunting her with dreams she pondered but that could never come to fruition. Rose abruptly halts. Her heart rate increases.

Just as she was about to round the corner to the staircase the disturbing creature from before that had chased her to the end of the hall has reappeared. Awkwardly it shuffles around the corner on its hands and Rose makes some sort of eye contact with it. She takes a few steps back, she doesn't wait and holds her breath, she takes a running start at the creature and leaps over it, hoping that maybe now, the room that she had originally come out of would offer a reprieve to her, allow her to get out.

She runs as fast as she can, ignoring the pain in her leg and she slides past the door, only stopping when her hands grip the knob. She looks over to her right side, the creature is shuffling towards her. She opens the door to the bedroom and shuts it quickly, taking a few steps back but keeping her eye on the door. She lets out a cry of surprise as she falls down a flight of stairs, letting out a string of curses as she comes to rest at the bottom of a cold floor. Rose lies there for a few minutes and stares up at a bunker like ceiling, the lights swaying slightly. Pain flowers out to cover her body. She attempts to breathe, inhaling deeply but coughs. The air is thick with the smell of smoke. Where is she now? This room was supposed to be the bedroom. She closes her eyes…she usually doesn't panic; she's been in worse situations but…this world is so hard to remain positive in. How does she get out? Everything wants to kill her. She's getting strange visions. All doors lead everywhere and nowhere. Rose sits up and groans, pressing her hand to her head and feeling around her legs and arms, hoping nothing is broken and relieved when she feels nothing out of sorts, just bruised flesh and a banged ego. Who falls down the stairs?

Once her eyes adjust to the dank area Rose feels her stomach tightening into a knot. She swallows, this bunker is so familiar. She takes a few steps before her foot connects with a slick liquid and she is brought down to her knees. When her gaze lowers to see what she slipped on she gasps. Blood. Her eyes dart around the room. Bullet holes in the walls, pieces of clothing on the floor and even a few precious jewels. Oh god, no. Rose covers her mouth and jumps to her feet, pressing herself against the corner of the wall and feels the tears well in her eyes. It's Yekaterinburg. No, oh god no. The aftermath. Why, why show her this? Her heart is ripped out of her chest again. She stares at the spot on the ground where she had found him, where he had thanked her for saving his children. When his hand touched her cheek and he drew his last breath in front of her. She presses her hands to the sides of her head and squeezes her eyes shut. How can she make this nightmare end?! How can she get out? She can feel her insides shaking, being forced to relive this nightmare over again. It hurts her and destroys her so thoroughly. What does it want from her? It has to be driving her to insanity, and then what? She's stuck forever here? Between worlds, wandering around listlessly? Until what? Until…until what?

Rose opens her eyes and screams from shock and surprise. She closes her eyes and counts to three. Just like her mum used to tell her if she had or saw something bad. _Close your eyes and count to three love, and all will be right again._ Well she did that and when she opens her eyes she scrambles to get away from the figure crouching before her. But she slips and falls, turning over to keep her eye on him as he advances forward. She takes refuge into another corner and pants, shaking her head. She's so close to reaching her breaking point.

'Why are you running, dear girl? Surely you know who I am.'

Rose lifts her eyes to his, hesitatingly and looking away multiple times. Perhaps it's the fact that he's frozen in the state in which he died. Multiple gun shot wounds to his torso and one in his forehead. The soldier's style uniform he used to wear, the cigarettes stored in the left front breast pocket. And those eyes. The honey coloured eyes…Rose feels the tears begin and then fall as she shakes her head.

'No…it can't be…'

'Yes, of course it can. I am so relieved to see you. How often I would worry for you.'

'But, but you can't have worried, you're dead, Nicholas. The Bolsheviks. I found…I found you right there.' Rose points to the spot on the floor. Nicholas turns over his shoulder and nods his head.

'You did. But no one knows what happens when you pass into the veil. I was able to see you. Worry for you.'

Rose shakes her head. This can't be real. It has to be another trick. What's the end goal, though? Why show her this? It can't really be Nicholas, can it? But he exudes all the warmth and concern he's always shown for her. The lightly accented English in which they would communicate. Her hands shake and she draws them to her chest. He takes them instead, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hands, like he used to. She is comforted. Minimally.

'What…what do you want?' Rose breathes and still finds herself trembling. Is it her or has the room become darker? Engulfed by more shadows than just a second ago? Nicholas turns over his shoulder. He must have picked up on the fact that she's staring over his shoulder. He doesn't acknowledge anything is there. So it has to just be her.

'I think it's time you put this business to rest. You have worn yourself down to nothing. It's time to retire, my dear girl. And to join us so we don't have to worry so much about you.' Nicholas informs her and Rose stares at him, frowning while watching as figures emerge from the darkness. There is nothing distinguished about them, they hold a loose form anyway. There are six of them. They linger behind Nicholas. But Rose doesn't understand what he wants from her.

'I don't understand. How do you know what I do? I didn't do what I do now when we met.'

'Once you pass through the veil, things become so much clearer.' Nicholas explains Rose shakes her head. Does that seem plausible? The whispers begin once more and Rose covers her ears, squeezing her eyes shut and repeating the mantra her mother told her.

'No, no. It won't. Aren't I already in a veil? How do I get out of here?' Rose questions, mostly to herself. But surprisingly, Nicholas tilts her chin up so her eyes meet his.

'Look, my dear girl,' Nicholas motions to the mass of shadow behind him and slowly figure emerge from it. They have no features; they simply retain a form. 'There are so many who wait for you. That would love to be reunited with you. My daughters, my wife, your mother, your husband. People who are tired of watching you suffer, emotionally, physically. We want peace for you.'

It makes her think. She has been through so much recently. But nothing more than normal. Things she's experienced before. Why quit now? Deep down inside, is that something she wants but hasn't acknowledged to herself? Just like that scene she was forced to watch earlier. She will admit she would think about things like that when she was lying in his arms at night. Together, often time attempting to catch their breathes, she'd ponder the thought of her life with him. How much of a normal life they could have had, even after his expulsion from the country?

Rose can feel that Nicholas hasn't his eyes off of her. But why push this matter so much. And why does she feel minimally comforted by his touch but not when he's looking at her? The oddity of the situation? She's spoken to ghosts or spirits before. Hell John was there, why not now? Could he be part of the black mass behind them?

Nicholas said he wanted peace for her. But she is at peace, most of the time. Things are too…sporadic at the moment to fully appreciate the chaotic situation. The time needed to immerse herself back into the way of life she's been used to. A regeneration. How could she just…not go back to him? They have to try to see if things between them will be fine. She can't imagine why they won't be but just in case they won't, she has a whole other life waiting for her. One she relishes in getting a chance to live. She can mingle with whomever she chooses, to do and to see whatever she wants. And…another piece of her life lingers there. One stop to Naples…

Because she can't go back to the parallel where her support is either. The night before she left to come back here, she curled up beside John's grave and bawled her eyes out, for hours until the tears turned into dry heaves, her eyes were swollen and she was drained - emotionally, physically and mentally. How much she missed him - she does to this day. How much she wished they were doing this together, because it was supposed to be the two of them forever. It brought up so many emotions she is certain she hasn't dealt with to this day. What else can she do? There have been so many times that she so desperately wanted to claw her way back to that parallel world to see John. That world is always so fleeting, so close to her grasp yet it manages to slip between her fingers. Maybe that's why she had to move on. Reluctantly and by force. She kicked her own ass into reality.

'But…I mean; I miss all of you so much. I may look like I'm in a constant state of turmoil, but truly I am fine. I will see you all when it's my time.' Rose insists and watches a dark gaze befall Nicholas eyes. Rose swallows, she doesn't see the gun that has appeared next to her right hand.

Nicholas smiles at her and leans forward, placing a light kiss on the top of her head. Rose remains quiet, holding her breath, unsure what to expect. As he draws away, Rose feels as though something is clawing in her mind to come out. The pressure behind her left eye in immeasurable. She presses her hands to her temples and lets out a soft cry from the pain. She draws her knees to her chest and rests her head on them, listening to the blood screaming in her ears. It hurts so much.

'I had hoped that wouldn't be the answer. All I wanted was for you to join us. But I suppose I will have to have you join us in another way. A messier way.' Nicholas replies and Rose opens her mouth to inquire what but finds herself unable to talk.

Something within her mind is directing her actions. She has no control of her right hand as it fishes for something on ground. When it connects with something cold, Rose can't even gasp. Nicholas watches approvingly. He even nods his head, why do this to someone you love. Why give them a gun? What does he want her to do with it?

'That's right my girl, check the cartridge,' Nicholas goads and Rose does so. What is doing this? She was fine until this migraine started. Then her mind when into a haze. Was this Nicholas's doing? Why hurt her? Rose feels the tears starting as she sees only a solitary bullet in the chamber. 'We are going to play a little game. Spin it.'

Rose spins the cartridge and feels her heart pounding in her chest, competing for loudness with the blood roaring in her ears and the intense pressure behind her left eye. She knows what he's doing. Russian Roulette. Why not? Why would he do this to her and worst of all…why can't she stop? He must be controlling her so hard. This can't be Nicholas. Something's tainted him and her memory of his kindness and affection for her. She has to be right. You die here, you stay here.

He watches as the tears fall and Rose brings the gun to her temple. She can't stop herself. Within her mind she tears for whatever semblance of control she can get and is refuted. Her mind will not listen to her. Tears roll down her cheeks as she can feel her finger gently squeeze the trigger. This is it. This is how she dies. She begs anyone in this realm with the ability to help her to intervene.

The gun clicks and no help comes. Rose jumps but nothing happens. An empty chamber. She's trembling as the the next round is loaded. Or not. Nicholas is staring at her with those honey coloured eyes, nodding his head as she pulls the trigger again. Nothing.

'This must be nerve wracking, isn't it, my girl? Not knowing when your time will come. I can see the fear in your vacant eyes. The tears falling down your cheeks are both of fear and anger. You tremble, I can see you begging someone, somewhere to gain control. Because this round…' He pauses and nods at her. Rose cries out from fear and relief as that chamber too, is empty. 'Could be your last. Interesting. Three rounds and nothing but blanks. What about the fourth?'

'Why are you doing this to me? You were supposed to love me!' Rose shouts and grits her teeth when that round also produces nothing. 'You were supposed to be someone I trusted! Another father! A true father wouldn't hurt his daughter!' She screams and holds her breath, her finger went to pull the trigger but then she managed to stop it. She made herself hesitate. Good.

'But I do and that's why I want you to be with us forever, dear girl.' Nicholas insists and Rose shakes her head as she continues to wrestle for control. She's managed to bring her left hand up to her right one and is pulling her right wrist away from her head. Small progress. She isn't going to give up.

Who thought it would be good to mess with her emotions like this? She damn nearly wished to agree with him. The recesses of her mind, a voice said yes. Let's do this, let's rest for awhile, we haven't done that in some time. Think of all the people who are there waiting to greet us with tight hugs and whispers of endearment. You could finally see your mum again. How you miss her. The longer she said there listening to that little voice within her, the louder it got. Maybe that's why this…version of Nicholas was able to capture her in a moment of weakness. The heaviness of the atmosphere constantly weighing down on her, crushing the positivity out of her, wanting to engulf her so that there would be nothing left. It has succeeded at points. That's why she's scared. She's not a quitter like this but this…place has taken everything from her life and warped it. But to have Nicholas there, taunting her, tell her to take her own life, is a slap in the face. Maybe that's what's shaken her into reality. Making her notice the inconsistencies in his appearance she missed the first time, because she stupidly believed it was him. How could she miss the one glaring omission to his true self. Rose grits her teeth and continues to struggle for control, the pain behind her eye intensifies the harder she struggles. Slowly the gun is moved further and further from her temple while Nicholas continues to stare at her. She's surprised to see that the gaze is vacant yet angry.

'I don't trust you,' Rose laughs but it still comes out as a strained amount of huffs. 'You did a good job, in the beginning. I believed it was you. But the way you'd hold my hand, or say certain things to me. No, red flags started going up. But you know where you really messed up?' Rose questions but the apparition remains silent. 'You got the colour of his eyes wrong. They're blue. A cloudy blue. Now I will gain control of myself again. And you will show me the way out of here. Or else.'

'Or else. Hardly a threat coming from someone in your situation.' The voice of Nicholas is tainted now; he doesn't sound anything like she remembers. Which makes Rose all angrier at herself for buying into the illusion.

Rose tries harder to force her hand away. 'Oh, I'll get out of here. And I'll make sure I deal with you first.'

'I'm sure you will, until then, I'm going to have more fun with you. I'll break you yet. You have plenty more tragedies in your life I can use.' The apparition winks at Rose and disappears. That last statement makes her uneasy. But the physical battle she'd been dealing with is over. However, the gun remains. She stares at in her hands, letting the full weight of her decision wash over her multiple times. What she nearly did, scared her. She aims the gun at the opposite wall and squeezes the trigger. Blank. Blank. There it is. The gun explodes. The bullet drives itself into the wall. Rose rubs the powder on her pants as she uneasily gets to her feet. The threat echoing in her mind. She looks around the cellar, but there is nothing worth noting. Those shadowy figures that Nicholas seemed to summon, vanished when he did.

But the air is still damp and cold, filled with the smell of smoke and there are bullet holes evident in the walls. Whether or not this is her doing or…something else, remains to be seen. She rests her hand right hand on the wall as she climbs the stairs, hoping that when she opens the door - her hand pauses above the knob - that she'll be in that bedroom and the armoire will produce its path back to the reality she's used to. She's grown annoyed with the labyrinth she's being forced to endure here.

Rose holds her breath and opens the door to reveal an empty room. There is nothing in it. There is a door on the opposite side and she sighs in defeat. She remains guarded and on edge. She looks around the small room with no windows but nothing is odd, nothing stands out until a flourish of whispering starts as she reaches the halfway point in the room. She pauses. Something's happening out of the corner of her eye and she frowns. Rose turns around carefully to see a woman of about her height with long blonde hair talking to a younger looking teen. He's no more than sixteen or seventeen. It's a lecture. The boy's dark locks fall into his eyes when he lowers his head. He's taller than the woman for his age. Rose has decided that it must be the woman's young son. Nothing else…paranormal occurs in the room so she leaves it as just being another projection of someone's memory. She continues to the door. Until fragments of their conversation begin to creep into her mind. She stops and turns around.

'What were you thinking, doing that? Have you lost all common sense?!' The woman scolds and Rose sees the woman reach up and lightly drive the heel of her hand into the boy's forehead. He pulls away quickly and rubs his head.

'Ow…mum…'

'No, tell me. I want to know. You have me bail you out of jail…I just…I can't even string together a coherent thought right now!' She states, voice getting louder.

'I don't know…' The boy looks at his feet again and the woman reaches her hand out and lifts her son's chin so she can force him to look her in the eye.

'That is not an answer. Humour me. Do a little bit of soul searching, yeah? The underworld is not a place you belong in.' The woman tells him and Rose finds herself taking a few more steps towards them, unsure if they could even see her. Or if she's herself a ghost. Like in _A Christmas Carol_.

'But it's a part of me, isn't it?' The boy questions desperately and the woman takes a step back. Rose holds her breath again. Oh no. No…

'It is not. Whatever gave you a thought like that?'

'Because…it's my legacy. The one he left for me. Why else would you have put an effort into making sure I stayed connected? The ten years in Palermo, moving to New York…tell me.' He wonders desperately. He's searching for a connection; a connection he isn't even supposed to know existed. Is this…could that boy be…?

'No! No it isn't. I did that because yes, it was important to me that you know where you're from even if we couldn't fully appreciate it. What else do you want me to say? What are you trying to prove, that you're his son?'

'He _is_ my father…' The boy responds seriously and the woman plants her fists on her hips. Rose can't help but notice the similarities in their posture… could that truly be her?

'But that does not mean that you belong in his world. Do you understand? Why are you having an identity crisis now, Dominic?'

'I don't know where I belong… ' He admits and the woman drops her hands to her sides and sighs. Rose still can't get a decent look at the boy's face. She can't tell if this…perhaps fictional person…could truly be theirs. Why should she care so much? Rose tries to turn away and leave the room, not wanting to invest so much emotional drama into this viewing but finds herself unable to turn away.

'It certainly isn't there,' The woman pauses in her thoughts and tilts her head. Rose begins to walk a bit closer. 'Dominic, why are you seeking validation from the underworld? Why do you think that by not knowing where you belong you automatically assume it will be there?'

'He belonged there…' Dominic states seriously and Rose stops a few feet shy of them, just in case they are able to see her. Though they give no indication they can.

'The world was a different place back then; do you understand? I can't fully explain it myself and I've known him. I've been around that world. The only answer I ever got was he believed he wasn't good at anything else. And even then he wouldn't want his son involved in that life. It's too dangerous.' The woman answers and Rose nods her head. The capacity to exist as he did cannot be repeated now in the 21st century.

'But you've been there…' He pleads and Rose shakes her head. She, whether or not a future version of herself - if that's the case why spoil the surprise? - is having a conversation about the father of her son. The conversation doesn't need to be read between the lines, it's all in black and white.

This has to be a fabrication. She wouldn't let her life come to this point, what could make her? Is whatever is here simply tapping into the darkest desires of her heart? Even if that were the case, she'd want to live her life with Charlie. But she's not stupid enough to make that mistake. Does this…force know something she doesn't? She strangely feels herself getting attached to this wayward boy, struggling to find a place in the world. Much like someone else she once knew. A person struggling to find identity in a world they aren't sure they belong in. If you can't be you, who do you become? No one wants to be a notorious criminal…

'When you come from a poverty stricken country to settle in another poverty stricken neighbourhood…you will look to better your life. Whatever path that may lead you down.' Rose hears herself explain and the boy nods his head slightly, rubbing the back of his head. Rose can see he wants to broach this subject carefully. But he wants to know the image of a man who is only painted one way.

'When did you meet him?' He wonders and she sees herself tensing up at the question.

'In 1929.'

'How?'

'By accident. That's where it should have ended. I returned in 1930 for work.'

'I heard you saved his life…'

'You need to stop talking to Jack,' She tells her son. Rose smiles. Of course Jack would be involved. How could he not be? He's her rock and she assumes that he'd be this boy's surrogate father. 'I did yes. I didn't know who he was.'

'Did you love him?'

'Dominic, I am not having this conversation with you. You weren't even supposed to know half the information you do-...' She begins before she's interrupted by her son.

'But I do, and I want you to fill in the gaps. I don't even know who he is, besides the normal stuff that's known. I want the other side of him, the one you knew...' He begs and the woman shakes her head deeply. What harm would it do for him to know the good that's in there too? How much he'd make her laugh and made her feel so sure about herself when she sometimes didn't, why can't he know?

'It's better to leave it in the past where it belongs. Do you hear me. No good will come of this…this…bringing up the past. Things happened between us that were not as history dictated-…' She starts once more before her son cuts in again, stabbing Rose in her heart with his comment.

'Like me?'

'Like him or I as well. We have to be true to history which means keeping my relationship with him in the dark. Only handfuls of people know.'

'Including me?'

'Enough. Just because you are his son doesn't mean you need to follow the same path he did. It's impossible to be in that world now because of all the laws we have, don't you see? Those laws were created _because_ of them. That generation, everything. You cannot exist in that world in the capacity in which he did. It's simply not feasible.' She explains desperately to the boy. Rose closes her eyes. How can this conversation be misconstrued any other way? That's their child. But will this come to pass or is this just to mess with her? L _ook what you could have had if you had tried harder. You screwed it up once with someone you love, and you got another chance and then you messed it up again_. When will the voices in her mind be silent?

'I just want to know who I am and where I belong.' The boy responds and Rose feels her heart break for him. To go through life, the son of a legend who you can't see or know and to have a mother who obviously continues on the life she built solo…has to have been tough.

'You are _my_ son, and that's all the information you need. Wherever your place is…it isn't there. It will never be there.' She tells him seriously and Rose wipes away tears she hasn't realised have fallen until the draught passes over her face. The taunting whispers begin in flourish.

'Yeah…all right…'

'Dominic, you didn't use his surname, did you?' She questions desperately and the boy gives his mother a crooked smile, shaking his head.

'No…just surname he used while checking into places.' He replies and Rose feels a smile creep onto her own face.

'Good lord, well, that's something. I guess. And just so you're aware, there are still rules for those that are only half.'

'I don't understand.'

'Because of the fear that those made men in the families would become turn coats upon arrest, and the general belief that only family is loyal, if you want to gain full access behind closed doors, both mother and father have to be Italian. Not just the father anymore. Those rules have been in place since the early 2000s. After the Commission Trial and the fall of the last major family.' She explains and again the boy flashes that crooked grin. As though he knows something no one else does.

'I'd bet they'd make the exception if they knew I was his son.'

'Check your ego. That is not something to go around boasting about.' The woman chides the boy smiles at his mother before embracing her tightly.

Rose holds her breath as she and the boy make eye contact. He looks at her as if they share a secret. Well, they do, don't they? That's her son. He's got the same eyes as he does, actually he's a near spitting image. Besides struggling to figure out his place, since his mother no doubt continues to time travel and do secretive missions and his father is a notorious gangster from the 20th century, yeah she could see why he has trouble fitting in.

The sound of footsteps causes Rose to look over her shoulder to the door which is now open. She looks back to where herself and her son were but the room is entirely empty. She sighs and walks towards the door, but pauses in the door frame. Something is moving up ahead. Rose holds her breath, is it that…thing? She peers out. Someone walks around the hallway. Rose frowns. They almost looked…sane. Like human. She trots to catch up, thinking maybe it's someone looking for her. Wouldn't that be relieving? She'd finally get out of here…

Rose slows down her pace when familiarity begins to hit her again. She knows these halls. These are her halls. From the parallel universe. She rounds the corner again, unaware she's been stuck on a loop of running until she pauses and sees something she wishes she hadn't. There is the ding that she and John had left the first day they moved in. Arguing over the way the couch was to be brought inside and as they attempted to tilt it, they rammed the wall with the couch's feet. The same hallway she found John in on the night he died. Her heart tightens in her chest. Will she be forced to find him again? She panics and continuously and frantically rounds the hallway corners until she stops and cries out in frustration and anger. When will the nightmare end?

Rose walks around the corner one last time and finds her breath hitched in her chest at the sight of seeing him like. Again. She covers her mouth and trots to him and then breaking out into a near sprint to see him. To hold him.

She slides down on the floor and embraces John so tightly. When he moves his arms around her, the tears spill from her eyes again. She hugs him tighter.

Familiarity. Everything is the same. Her emotions, the atmosphere - thick with disbelief and sadness. How can this dimension get everything so right? The only thing that she wants is to leave this horror. How can it still hurt so much? She can almost feel John having to pry her off of him. She reluctantly allows him to, afraid that if he gets too far away from her, he will slip between her fingers and that he'll disappear, especially since she finds herself constantly grabbing at his shirt, smoothing it out and then clawing at him again.

Something deep within clicks.

Is this truly him? Or another perverted illusion of him so that she'll drop her guard? No, no but everything seems so true and correct. Everything. When he looks into her eyes everything else around her melts away. She smiles lightly and she's met with a crooked smile. She cups his face and kisses his head. How much she's missed him.

'I don't know if this is another attempt to make me drop my guard…but-…'

'No, it's really me this time. Though, I can't seem to move. Not sure how. This isn't at all like last time. I'm literally stuck here. Frozen in memory.'

Rose wants to believe him but she's seen so much twisted visions that she's not sure what to do. 'Sorry, it's not that I don't believe you. It's just, I want to be sure. Just in case.' _So you literally don't stab me in the back._ She nearly adds but keeps her disturbing comment to herself.

John nods, resting his chin on Rose's head. He feels her relax. Just slightly. 'Yeah, there has been some weird stuff going on.'

'You're telling me. I'm apologising now for my guarded nature. Everything in this world is designed to make me go crazy. I swear it.'

'Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm an incapacitated ghost who's able to think on his own but that doesn't seem to be good enough.' John replies and Rose smiles at him.

'Maybe a bit. How'd you even get here?'

'Same as last time. I have the ability to appear, you know. Except this time, it's like someone is forcing me to stay here in the memory like form. Strange. I haven't been able to gather much information either. Not a lot of souls come wandering by here. I can hear them; I can't see them.'

'Me either. Not like last time. I don't like change.'

'I know you don't,' John agrees and follows the draught that passes by them. Nothing. He can't see a damned thing. 'Well let's conduct an itemised list. First things first. We need to get you out of here and back on the right plain.'

Rose clings to him, staring into nothing. What could he see? What did he hear? Who passed by? Shadows and memories? Hers? Time to deflect. 'What have you heard?'

'Well, people know you're here. They're just as curious about you as you are them. I can't blame them, you're fascinating.'

'Stop…'

'Anyway, they're feeding on the tragedy in your life-…'

'There's a lot of it.'

'I know, too much. They're using it to cause you to have a break down. So you'll just curl up in a ball and that'll be the end.' John explains and feels Rose cling to him tighter. He manages to rub her back slightly.

'Yeah well they've done a damned good job! I nearly died playing a great game of Russian Roulette. Oh being chased by the torso of a skeleton-…'

'That's Will.' John interrupts and Rose stares at him stunned.

'It has a name?!'

'We all have names, Rose. That doesn't change in death.' John gently chides and Rose looks over her shoulder to the barren hall of their flat. She can feel the lingering presence growing larger.

'Whatever. This place showed me things in my life I wanted, things I've lost…'

'Well, you've been busy,' John agrees and Rose eyes him. 'What?'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Rose questions and wonders if that's a jab at her busy life with Charlie. He's not stupid. He has to have known in some way. But she won't press him on it, dependant on his answer of course.

'I just mean that you've been busy carving out your own life sine you got back over here, that's all?' John replies innocently and Rose silently watches a shadow pass in front of them. She exhales a cloud of breath in front of her and shuts her eyes.

'I need to get out of here, my sanity is on the line.' Rose confesses and shifts, abruptly feeling uncomfortable. John nods his head.

'Just because I'm stuck here like this, doesn't mean my genius has been affected. I'll think of something,' John assures her and Rose frowns, feeling a sharp pain in her lower back. She shifts once more. 'How'd you get here?'

Rose exhales the pain and frowns, confused as where this is coming from. It's causing her to perspire, a line of sweat runs down her temple.'Oh…the armoire.' She presses her hand to her lower back.

'You haven't seen anyone helpful?'

Rose sucks in air quickly and shakes her head. 'No. No…I didn't. Just visions of my life that's been twisted and that woman. I don't know her name or who she was, whether she was projecting her own memories out there because she was trapped or what.'

'I honestly don't know what to say. Did you go anywhere else or just this level?' John wonders and is starting to get concerned with how much Rose is fidgeting.

She covers her soft moan of pain. 'No, no. I…mm, went downstairs and toured the main level a few times. That's it. I saw…figures but nothing discerning.'

'I wonder if you go down there again, make a lot of noise and see if you can't make your presence known to the others. If this place is a replica of the true house, wouldn't you be able to get a message across to them somehow?'

'How?' Rose grits her teeth. This pain, in the spots it is…so familiar. So…scary.

'Writing on a mirror? Carving something into the walls. You're a creative girl,' John tells her and is worried when she gasps and cries out. 'What? What's wrong?'

Rose felt the wetness between her legs and her eyes drift there immediately. John looks down to her lap and is stunned by what he's witnessing. He sees Rose is staring blankly at the wall in front of them with her hand raised but she is refusing to look at it. Is covered in blood. So is the fabric between her legs. Did this…realm just manage to stimulate her miscarriage again? She's so silent. She isn't saying anything. Now he understands the mental anguish she's been forced to deal with since she arrived, truly something is trying to break her. And it's throwing out the hardest punches it can manage.

'Rose…?' John tries and she finally lowers her hand but instead places it on her stomach before it disappears between her legs once again. 'It isn't real. Do you understand. It's not real. Look at me. Look at me.' John reaches for her face and manages to get her to stare at him. She blinks rapidly and the tears fall in earnest.

'What…?'

'It isn't real. This is another attempt to get your guard down and another opportunity to test your sanity by hurting you in anyway this realm can. It's not real.'

'How do you know that?!' Rose screams suddenly and John is taken back. 'You don't know what I've done while I've been back, who I've done! What I saw in here…who's to say what's been happening in my life…' She trails off, having lost her train of thought as the memories wash over her. 'Tell me where I should go? To the left where nothing is ever right? Or to the right where nothing is ever left?!'

'I know it hurts, I know what you're thinking…' John begins but Rose interrupts him once again.

'You don't know! You. Don't. Know!' She screams in pain and covers her ears as the whisperings increase in strength and volume. She nearly blurted out that she's been with another man, that this place showed her what her life could have been. Are they showing her another tragedy? Is she doomed to repeat history? 'Why did it take this part? It hurt so badly the first time, it's gutting me the second time.' Her voice cracks and she whimpers.

John grips her tightly and inhales carefully. 'Because it wants to break you, but you're stronger,' John tells her and Rose holds up her hand still covered in blood but he lowers it. 'Doesn't matter. Not real. Look at me. It isn't real.'

Rose focuses on John but every second that passes she wants to look down to see the blood but he won't let her. The moment she breaks eye contact with him he forces her to look at him.

Her face is grey and the longer they maintain eye contact the more convinced he becomes that she won't last here much longer. His heart breaks for her. Devastated for her once again, the only small light in the dark is that he is here this time to hold her hand. But it's too little too late. He tells her to close her eyes. So she does. He looks down. There is nothing there. Her pants are not stained like earlier though her hand remains bloody as a reminder, reminder of what? Her perceived failure? The only thing that may have utterly shaken her to her core and made her question everything? This place is brutal. He wants to help her and yet in his current state he can do nothing but encourage her.

She seems to quiet herself down, hiccupping she rests her head on his shoulder and attempts to make herself as small as possible. Events like this shake her confidence so thoroughly. She as tough as nails, has grown into a woman unlike the one he first met all those years ago. She's become sure of herself and her abilities. She's battled her whole life to become the incredibly strong woman she is today. If this place thinks it can take her down, then it's welcome to take its best shot. It cannot succeed. This is just a small bump in the road.

'I feel…so defeated by this…' Rose whispers and John kisses her head, wishing that she could go back to the proper realm.

'I know. But listen to me, no matter what happens, no matter how far you seem to be away from where you want to be, you need to believe that you will make it. Somehow, someway. Believe it will work out and that you will get out of here,' John assures her. Rose nods her head slowly. 'So let's push past this. How are you getting out of here?'

Rose's gaze flickers towards the staircase and the parlour where they'd gathered earlier. It seems like a central location and hub. She wonders if they are there now…?

* * *

Everyone turns over their shoulders and the chattering ceases when Maggie enters the room in a flourish and shuts the door behind her, gasping as she catches her breath. Leah gathers her skirts and rushes over to Maggie and embraces her tightly. Maggie clutches at Leah. She's panting and the Doctor walks over to her and opens the door, there is no sign of Rose. There was that thunderous banging moments ago…is she investigating that? She sent Maggie out of harm's way? Mm, he doesn't like that.

'Rose?' He waits but there is nothing but floor creaking above his head. Could that be her? He turns back into the parlour where Maggie is shaking in Leah's arms and at the same time is having a silent conversation with Katie. He feels a presence move past him so he glances over his shoulder. Nothing. It's…worrisome. 'Rose?!'

'Sir, she, she…' Maggie begins and swallows, catching her breath. 'She was taken. She, she's, she was…the armoire. Something took her in the armoire.'

The Doctor's mind stopped listening after Maggie said Rose was taken. Taken where? He sprints up the staircase and checks every single one in every room until the final room remaining is the girls'. It's cold in here…he vaguely hears the others trudging up the stairs but his sight sets on the pageboy styled hat she wore earlier, lying helplessly on the floor in front of the armoire. He picks it up and stares at the armoire.

Something's taken her? That's so vague. Locked her in? She can't get out? So why can't he hear her then? He runs the sonic over the entire armoire but there is nothing outstanding, just some residual energies. But that could also be the room tainted from the spirits wandering around here. The Doctor pulls the armoire towards him and checks behind it. Nothing but wall, he knocks on the wall but it produces no hollow noises.

'What on god's green earth are you doing?' Lucy calls to him and the Doctor stares at her.

'What do you think? I'm looking for Rose. She's been taken.' The Doctor opens the armoire doors in a flourish and is annoyed that there is only clothing in there. He presses his hand against the back of the armoire. Nothing.

'She more than likely found a way out of here and left. She was selfish enough not to let the rest of us know.' Lucy huffs and folds her arms, the Doctor continues to study the armoire and doesn't play into Lucy's barb.

'No, not Rose. She's here till the end, unless she can't be. Maggie, what happened exactly?'

Maggie and Katie have been silently conversing on the fact that the entity from the parlour has followed them upstairs, they can feel it as it watches from the corner of the room. Katie nudges Maggie and she tears her gaze away from the corner to focus on the Doctor.

'After that fright earlier, I came up here. There were so many of them in the halls and in the rooms, I came in here and hid under the bed,' Maggie pauses and points to the one closest to the armoire. 'I heard footsteps coming closer so I stayed quiet. And then I heard Rose call my name. I was about to come out when I heard her opening the armoire doors in her search of me. I saw her standing there from under the bed with her back to the open doors. Suddenly two arms reached out and pulled her in. The doors slammed shut.'

The Doctor frowns and runs the sonic over it one again. Still the same readings. 'Portal? This is new. Never got that the last time. Fascinating…'

Everyone is silent as a cold gust of air sweeps through the room. The girls cling to Leah while Richard draws Lucy closer. Everyone anticipates another around of phenomenon. Strangely it is quiet. Something must be toying with them. Is it the phenomenon that captured Rose? Where did they stash her?

Gasps erupt from the room as a stillness falls over them. Someone or something is playing the piano downstairs. There is a look exchanged amongst them and the Doctor rushes past them, Richard, the girls and Leah fall in line behind him. Lucy stomps her foot and pouts as she slowly walks down the hall after them. She scolds herself more and more that she shouldn't have come. Well, just wait until she gets out of here. She will let the whole world know what happened here today.

When they enter the parlour it is below zero. Everyone huddles together for warmth but the girl notice that black mass has trailed them to the parlour and lingers by the fireplace. Could that be Rose? There is nothing visible to them sitting on the stool in front of the piano.

The Doctor turns around in a small circle, passing by the fireplace. He pauses by the piano. The music stops. The melody echoes around them. 'Rose? Is that you? Come on. Give me a sign. I'm trying not to be worried, so stop giving me a reason to.'

Whispering starts in flourish and the girls looks around from place to place. Someone is trying to get through. They want to be heard. It isn't the mass by the fireplace. Although whatever that is seems to have focused on the two of them, which is slightly unnerving.

Papers that had been lying on the table from earlier begin to be flung into the air, swirling above their heads as though an invisible force is stirring them up and preventing them from falling. The ink pen joins the fray as it strikes the papers randomly. The cold seems to intensify, something is struggling to be heard.

Abruptly, everything ceases. While the cold doesn't ebb away, the papers begin to lower themselves to the ground. Twisting to the floor before the settle into a somewhat rudimentary line. Angry black streaks strike the paper in odd ways and everyone huddles together, save for Lucy, to see what it says. She maintains her position by the doorway and folds her arms. She's not even scared anymore. Now she's just annoyed. Annoyed that she can't leave and go home, that she's stuck with these fools and that Richard is not by her side admonishing them for their foolish behaviour.

She listens to the chatter of everyone – even Richard – bouncing ideas off of one another convinced that it must be a message. Lucy wraps her arms around herself and her teeth chatter against the cold. Arguments, they're talking over one another. It's annoying. She wants quiet, so she directs her eyes to the papers they are trying to decipher and spots the message right away. She balls her fists at their stupidity.

'Oh laws! You morons! How can you not see what it is?! The message says, 'Marco! Your turn. Come find me.' How do you not see it?!'

The Doctor grins and lifts his eyes to the ceiling. 'Oh Rose…Rose, Rose, you brilliant girl! Polo, Rose! Your turn!'

Leah looks to the ceiling but doesn't see anything. 'How will we get find her? How will we get her back? Is she alive?'

'I refuse to believe she is anything but. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,' The Doctor replies and runs the sonic over the piano before turning it on the ceiling. There is something there, but he isn't sure if it actually Rose or not. 'Rose, where are you? I need you to keep connecting with me.'

He turns around to have another piece of paper hit him in the face and he grabs it, studying the few words on it. It certainly wasn't the answer he had hoped for. He looks around the room. _Somewhere between. Something brought me here. Not sure how to get out. I_ need _to get out._

She's scared. He can feel it in the writing. That's the question. How does he get her out, and how does he admit to her that he isn't sure in the slightest how to go about doing that? Don't admit it. Don't frighten her further. He's about to ask the girls if they have heard anything amongst the dead. Chattering or whispers about a live being messing around their world. They most likely want her out as well…unless…the more sinister plan is to embrace her into the fold. And his mind is starting to gravitate towards the latter.

'Lucy look out!' Katie cries and rushes towards Lucy, pushing her out of the way. Lucy tumbles to the floor and the Doctor is just able to see a black mass move into Katie and she gasps, crumpling to the floor.

'Katie?! _Katie_?!' Leah screams and cradles her in her arms with Maggie holds back her sobs. Richard helps Lucy up again and the Doctor rushes over to Leah. Katie is unresponsive. Leah shakes Katie's shoulders but it doesn't rouse her.

'What the hell happened?' The Doctor demands and runs the sonic over Katie and is relieved to see she is still alive. Lucy clings to Richard.

'Lucy and I thought we saw something moving in the corner of the room, by the fireplace. A shadow figure. We weren't sure until it started to move towards us. It was heading right for Lucy, Katie must have seen it as well and threw herself between it.' Richard explains and rubs Lucy's arm to comfort her. She's shivering from fear, unable to take her eyes off of Katie.

'Maggie do you see anything in the corner now?' The Doctor wonders and Maggie shakes her head, not even bothering to look back.

'No, whatever was there is in Katie now,' Maggie replies and clutches Katie's hand. 'I don't understand. That presence has been there since this ordeal started.'

The Doctor frowns. 'What? The whole time?'

Maggie nods. 'Yes, we were not able to determine if this presence was a threat. It was always just…there. Observing.'

'Waiting for the opportune moment to strike.' The Doctor finishes and Maggie looks away. Why hadn't they thought of that? It makes so much more sense. Why had they been so naïve? Oh Katie…Maggie brushes Katie's curls off her face.

'What are we going to do? How do we help her?' Leah begs and tries to shake Katie awake again. The Doctor sighs. This is just getting more and more dangerous.

'Whatever went to attack Lucy was either foiled by Katie…or now resides in her.' The Doctor informs them and Leah covers her mouth with her hands. Lucy vaguely blinks and barely listens to Richard when he inquires about her well-being and health. She remains silent.

Katie unexpectedly gasps and sits up, startling everyone. They all jump back but the Doctor who is studying Katie carefully. There is a distance in her eyes, they're dull, and lifeless and yet whatever is inhabiting her is marvelling at their new body. Katie – or whatever is inside her – is holding her hands out in awe. She blinks and observes those around her.

'Katie? Laws! Are you all right? You gave us such a fright!' Leah embraces her tightly however Katie pushes her off and shakes her head. With a flick of her wrist, everyone but the Doctor is blown away from her. The Doctor and Katie rise together and Katie continues to study her surroundings.

'Kate?' Maggie calls desperately but Katie merely tilts her head. 'Please, please whatever is inside my Kate, don't hurt her…'

The Doctor continues to aim the sonic and Katie and Katie turns to him frowning. With another flick of her wrist, the sonic is yanked from his hands and is thrown to the ground, rolling towards the doorway.

'I grew annoyed with your pointing,' Katie tells him sternly and the Doctor is stunned by her. Katie directs her gaze to Maggie and Leah. Katie's voice is slightly higher and Leah is able to recognise an upper class tone to the way she speaks. That is not Katie to be certain. 'You needn't fear. Your Katie is safe. Though I was aiming for the loudmouth, in order to make her useful. I had grown weary of her constant complaining.'

Lucy drops her mouth open in shock. 'Listen here…'

Richard stares at Katie. There was only one person he knew who called his cousin Lucy a loudmouth. What is happening…?

'Be silent, Lucy. Had I known you were going to be on everyone's nerves, I'd have allowed a safe passage for you to get out of this house because your stubbornness would have only slowed us all down.' Katie informs her and Lucy splutters for words. Richard continues to watch Katie with awe. A faint wisp of a smile appears on his face. It quickly vanishes.

 _No one can stand to be around her. She has a pointy personality. Too many edges_ …her words echo in Richard's mind. She had grown tired of Lucy's constant complaining about everything from the weather to the decorative skills of her supposed friends. She talked to hear herself.

'Dear Richard,' Katie breathes and smiles at him. 'How long it has been.'

Lucy narrows her eyes. 'How many ghosts are you familiar with?'

A thunderous bang erupts over their heads and causes plaster dust to fall onto them. The Doctor brushes off his shoulders and watches with fascination the interaction between Richard and the spirit within Katie.

'Lucy, my dear, do shut up. I grow weary of your constant sharp edges and mean words.' Katie replies and Lucy is stunned to silence. The Doctor is surprised by Richard's actions. He moves closer to Katie. Unlike the first spirit that inhabited Rose – who was adamant that Richard knew of them, despite his claims otherwise – he genuinely appears to recognise this one. Good. They may have just secured an ally.

'My god. Impossible. Could it be?' Richard breathes and attempts to find life in those dull eyes. He can see nothing to point him in the right direction. Now he needs verbal confirmation.

'You know her then?' The Doctor surmises and Richard nods his head quickly.

'Yes…my fiancée…' Richard tells them softly and Lucy gasps. 'Lily…'

Katie gives them a small smile. 'I know who torments you all…'

The Doctor frowns. 'How do you know?'

Katie looks to the ceiling. 'I can hear your Rose beyond. She is all right. But…my presence may draw her closer.'

'Who?' The Doctor questions and can't help but glance to the ceiling as well. Hopefully this Lily has a plan to get Rose out of there. He worries the longer she's trapped in there that things will get worse.

'My sister…' Katie sighs. 'She is taking her revenge out on Richard because she believes it's his fault for her fate. But our fates were once intertwined. And truly it is my fault. I forsook her.'

'How?' The Doctor questions and Katie looks away.

'How does any story involving two sisters begin? With bad luck and the struggle to survive…'

* * *

 _Her hand quivers as she slides the rouge across her cheeks. One month into this horrid predicament and she has yet to make a connection. Her sister…has taken to this so well. Well, as well as can be. She just tells her to leave her body when she's on her back. To think of something else. She thinks about the fact that her sister is growing tired of having to work twice as hard to secure them a small life. She goes to put the rouge down when a knock on the door startles her and she drops the little jar. It clatters to the ground and she closes her eyes. Great. She'll be scolded for that._

 _Her sister enters in a flourish and shuts the door behind her. She reaches up to the gas lamp and turns it down, creating atmosphere is important, her sister says._

' _All right. I've found someone perfect for you. You can't possibly louse this up.' Her sister says and rushes towards her. She pauses and gives her a thorough once over before shaking her head. She reaches forward and unclasps a few more hooks. Embarrassed she pulls away._

' _Delilah!'_

' _Lily! Laws!'_

' _Why would you do that?'_

' _To show off what you have. I am so tired of working for the both of us. I love you, I do. But my god I need a break. I don't care if you're not good at this or it makes you uncomfortable, you need to start pulling your own weight.' Delilah replies and covers her mouth to cough. Lily eyes her._

' _You need to start spending money on something for that cough.' Lily chides and sits on the vanity stool while Delilah brushes her hair. Delilah snorts._

' _I'll just get more laudanum. Besides, someone has to look out for you. Don't worry I'm not going anywhere.'_

 _Footsteps echo around them and Delilah looks over her shoulder. She exhales and kisses the back of Lily's head. Lily feels her heart rate increase rapidly and her gaze flickers over to the bed. Why must women resort to this trade of work? Delilah says it could be worse, they could be working in a factory that would bugger their lungs up._

' _Delilah, I can't. I'm not good at this.'_

' _Yes, you are. You'll be fine. The first one is always the hardest. It'll get easier after that.' Delilah smiles and rushes to the door. She opens it and steps aside. A man enters and Delilah winks at Lily, shutting the door in a flourish. Lily panics. She knows where Delilah will be, the room across down the hall._

 _How desperately she wishes this would end. She prays he's quick._

 _XxX_

' _He asked to see me again.' Lily informs Delilah who turns over to her from the bed. Her sister is utterly obsessed with this man. Or vice versa. Only her sister would manage to find love in a brothel._

' _I hope you said no.' Delilah replies sourly and snatches the blankets from around Lily to wrap herself into. She fears this cough is turning into something more. She's weak all the time. A man robbed her after they had finished and she didn't even have the strength to draw her knife for protection and warning. What's wrong with her?_

' _I like him, Delilah,' Lily whispers and wrangles more of the blankets from her sister. Usually they didn't have a problem sharing a bed, but tonight it seems that they wish to fight and be apart. But with only one bed…well it seems they have to fight before they can sleep. 'I told you…our first meeting. He didn't even try to force himself on me. He confessed that this wasn't something he likes to do. It had been at the behest of his friends. We talked about poetry and books-…'_

' _For two hours? I worried about you, Lily.'_

' _But I was fine. And he still paid me, didn't he?' Lily plays with Delilah's long black hair. She worries for her sister. Something is wrong. Even her hair has lost its lustre. It's this sickness. Whatever she's contracted appears to be sucking the life from her._

' _But then you wouldn't even see anyone else-…'_

' _Because he promised to come back to see me,' Lily interrupts and Delilah sighs. 'What?'_

' _We are not here to sell our time or company or offer these men our companionship. We are here to offer a service and to be paid for it. We are offering up our bodies to them so that we can make a living. Because when women like us have no means we turn to whoring. It's the only thing we're good at. Men are controlled by their desires.' Delilah reminds her and Lily falls silent._

' _Richard isn't like that…' Lily replies quietly after some time has passed. Delilah rolls her eyes and supresses another coughing fit. She needs more laudanum. Maybe she's jealous at Lily's fortunes. Her luck. Only her sister's first ever client would turn out to have morals. Wouldn't fuck her sister but still paid her for her time. And now…they go out as though they are sweethearts. When will it be her turn?_

' _Don't get too attached, I'm warning you. He'll break your heart. All men do.'_

' _Del…' Lily sits up and stares at her sister who refuses to move from facing the wall to look at her. She's never seen Delilah so mad at her before. 'Del, please…'_

' _No Lily. I'm done talking tonight. I just want to sleep.'_

 _Lily lies back and stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours. She can hear Delilah's struggle to breath, the broken breaths. Her lungs are infected. She didn't get a chance to tell Del that Richard has talked about marriage. He feels that they are the same people through and through. If she does manage to win the right to have Richard propose marriage their luck would finally start turning around._

 _Richard is a doctor. She would move into his spacious home and she'd insist that Delilah be allowed to join her. She wants more for them. She wants more than a cramped apartment in the lowest spot in this city amongst those discarded by society. Delilah deserves it._

 _XxX_

 _She hasn't seen Delilah since she told her that she accepted Richard's proposal of marriage. Any time she's tried to stop by the brothel, the Madam tells her that she's not welcome - Delilah's words. Any message she attempts to get to Delilah is returned to her in shreds. Delilah is angry. That's an understatement. How desperately she wants to get word to her that she is working on Richard to allow her to be moved into their home. She deserves security. Instead all Delilah is concerned with is the the fact that in her eyes, she's betrayed her. She managed to pull herself out of the hellhole referred to as the streets and whoring on one go and her sister is still stuck there with no prospects. Just a bad cough._

 _Lily pops the jacket collar to keep the rain from penetrating her further. Why must things be this way? She only wants to help her sister out…how can she convince both Richard and Delilah that all will be well once they're together? And more importantly…what will happen if she isn't successful?_

* * *

'By the time I managed to convince you, Richard, that Delilah was not someone to be feared, she had already been claimed by consumption. She died alone and unloved, truly believing that I didn't care for her and left her in those circumstances on purpose,' Katie informs them and Leah wipes the tears off her face she didn't know had fallen. 'My shortcomings consumed me. Until…well, until the end.'

Richard stares stunned. 'Is that why you…?'

'Borrowed your straight razor? Yes. I hoped that I could join Delilah in the after world and explain myself. We were not reunited as I had hoped. Now I fear she's taking her revenge out on you because of me.'

Richard begins to feel uneasy. No wonder he didn't remember the woman who resided in the blonde. He had met her once as she opened the door in that horrid little room where Lily was. He only managed to catch a glimpse of the raven haired woman before she disappeared.

'Why would you…do such a thing. I loved you, Lily.'

Katie shrugs absently, dropping her gaze to the ground. 'And I do as well. However, it was Delilah and I through thick and thin. And then I met you. I was torn. That's why I aimed to please both of you. In the end I failed you both.'

The Doctor notices that the windows behind them have begun to frost over the lower the temperature falls. Something's coming to join their little gathering. While he wishes to believe it's Rose the logical side to him tells him it isn't her. He rushes to collect the sonic by the door and notices that everyone has begun to stare at the ceiling. The loud footsteps are heard followed by what appears to be someone descending them. He turns over to Katie, rather Lily.

'Sounds like we're about to have company. Lily, can you stop her?' The Doctor wonders and Katie smiles sadly.

'I aim to reason with her-…'

'No offence, but your trifling sister doesn't listen to reason.' Lucy interjects and Katie glares at her. Lucy is silenced and swallows. She doesn't want to piss off another spirit. She curses herself for her headstrong attitude.

'If I cannot reason with her and she won't abandon this…quest for retribution…I will fight her to the end.' Katie explains and Maggie and Leah widen their eyes. That plan puts Katie's life in danger. Leah is about to voice her displeasure with that plan when her voice is drowned out by the Doctor.

'We will help you but I have a small request…'

Katie nods. 'Yes?'

'Are you able to get Rose back from wherever she is, and…can you guarantee Katie's safety?' The Doctor wonders and Leah closes her eyes in relief. Thank goodness someone is paying attention to her concerns.

Katie snaps her fingers and Rose appears before them with her back turned and arms wrapped around herself. She's shivering and she moves her head around from one side to the other as she gets herself sorted. She's also holding an iron poker in her hand which clatters to the ground when she drops it. Her left hand shakes.

She turns around and widens her eyes. The Doctor doesn't even get a chance to do a visual check on her before she's closed the gap in a rush and jumps into an embrace, wrapping her legs around him. It startles him so he takes his time before he wraps his arms around her. He can feel her heart beating in her chest, shivering but whether from fear or a chill he hasn't been able to discern.

He drowns out the chatter of the others, the argument between Richard and Lucy, Leah's concerns for Katie and Maggie questioning both Leah and Katie. He blinks when he notices that Rose has finally pulled herself together enough to lift her head from his shoulder to stare into his eyes. The Doctor is taken back by how blood shot her eyes are, the dark rings under her eyes…where did she go and what did she see? It surely had to traumatise her. He goes to pry her off of him but she merely locks her legs tighter. She's also ice cold. He very nearly recoils when she places her hand on his cheek.

'Yeah, not yet,' Rose tells him softly. 'Just let me have a moment here…'

'You're cold…' The Doctor glances over and past her shoulder to see Katie explaining something about the armoire by pointing to the ceiling. Rose allows him to set her back on her feet and he immediately takes off his jacket and wraps it around her. As he's in the middle of doing that, Rose presses herself against him. She needs comfort. But there won't be time to talk about her experience until after they're back in the TARDIS.

Rose continues to shiver in the Doctor's jacket and together they begin to tune into the conversation before them. 'What's been going on here?' She whispers and the Doctor eyes her.

'Pettiness. Oh, and a spirit named Lily is now inhabiting Katie. But Lily was aiming for Lucy…' The Doctor explains and Rose rolls her eyes.

'Yeah I definitely had more fun than you.' She replies and continues to shiver.

'Where did you go?'

'I honestly don't know.'

'We'll talk about this later, yeah? Sounds like we're about to bust a seriously ticked off ghost.'

Rose finishes her statement just as a hush falls over the rest of the group and they turn to face one another. Katie steps forward and smiles at Rose.

'How'd you get me out?' Rose wonders and Katie shrugs.

'I willed it.'

The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'Willed it…I willed it about a hundred times.'

'Die and become connected to the veil.' Katie retorts and the Doctor shakes his head.

'Death really isn't in my vocabulary. Nor repertoire.'

'I know.'

'Okay, so what's the plan?' Rose attempts to get this conversation back on track and Katie holds one finger up to her lips. She closes her eyes and smiles. The footsteps are back, thunderous above their heads. They can almost feel the energy shift; the room gets colder. 'Oh…I hope we don't wing it…'

The Doctor looks at the four people who have huddled together, terrified out of their minds as to what is making its way down those stairs. No doubt coming after Richard. Angry over something. Something is missing. Why target him solely? How do they stop it? Can they distract it enough to make it talk to them so that they can convince it to let go of the anger and help it move on?

'All right, everyone but I and the Flower Power Girls, move over to the fireplace and stay calm. Richard here.' The Doctor scoops up the iron poker, shoving it into Richard's hands.

'What am I to do with this?'

'Swing at anything abnormal. Iron dissipates them.'

Richard studies the iron and nods. 'Interesting.'

'Keep those girls safe. You hear me?' The Doctor informs him and he gives the Doctor a hard look of agreement.

'No harm will befall them while I still have breath in my body.'

'A tad dramatic but it'll do.' The Doctor gently shoves him towards Maggie, Lucy and Leah. Katie begins to follow them when a fierce wind blows the doors to the parlour open, they bang off the walls.

Everyone is stunned and the black force enters the room and before anyone can move or think, the mist seems to target Katie. She takes a step back and attempts to duck out of the way as the mist hurls itself towards. Katie isn't quick enough and it pierces her in the chest. Rose covers her mouth in horror however Katie is merely thrown back to the others. She scrambles to get up and throws herself into Leah's embrace. She keeps the girls tucked into her side.

Whatever it was, the mist only wanted what resided in Katie. Lily. Nothing more. A woman with blonde hair stands before them with her hair swept off her face and standing in a long blue skirt and white blouse. A dripping noise alerts Rose's eyes to the ground and she widens her eyes as blood drips onto the floor from the woman's wrist. Rose understands. The straight razor she borrowed. How terrible…

Richard is stunned at the apparition of his fiancée who stands before him exactly as he found in her the glisten porcelain tub. He shoves the iron poker to Lucy and takes a few tentative steps towards her. The black mist notices as well and Rose's eyes dart to it.

'Lily…?'

She turns around and smiles at him. 'Richard. My love…'

'Look out!' Rose calls and the mist has made a dash for Richard. Lily widens her eyes and steps in between the mist and Richard. She holds her hand out and the mist is halted in its tracks. It begins dissipate, swirling around in circles until it dissolves entirely. Everyone gasps. Except Rose. She's already met the woman who stands before them all.

The woman from the dingy apartment building room who had that horrid coughing. Her dark hair is still hanging down her back and she is in the dirty chiffon nightgown as well. She stares in shock at Lily. Lily merely looks on in sad sympathy.

'How can this be? I didn't see you at the sitting.' The woman declares and Lily shakes her head.

'You wouldn't. I am dead.'

That revelation startles the woman because her hands fly to her mouth. Her eyes fall to Lily's wrist. She points to Lily. 'What have you done?'

'I let guilt over come me in my moment of weakness. I believed I had failed.'

The woman folds her arms. 'Failed at what?'

'Failed at keeping my promise to you.'

That statement infuriates the woman. She balls her fists and Rose notices a small cloud of blackness has formed around her fists. She elbows the Doctor and he widens his eyes. He searches for the iron poker but can only see the one and it's in Lucy's hands. That won't do her much good.

'Let's talk about that, shall we?' The woman begins to circle Lily. Rose finds herself holding her breath while Richard attempts to think of a way to keep Lily safe.

'I-…' Lily begins before the woman interrupts her.

'Left me behind? Yes, I know.'

'I was going to apologise to you. I became…'

'You left me alone to die. For what? Him?'

'Delilah…' Lily begins but Delilah silences her with a simple glare. Rose can tell she's shutting down and she glances up to the Doctor to see if they are in some way able to help them work through this awkwardness. Lily wants to apologise; Delilah isn't sure she wants to hear it. It leaves them at an impasse.

Delilah shakes her head and balls her fists again. The glass vase on the mantel shatters, reigning down pieces onto Lucy, Leah and the girls. They hastily brush the glass off and the girls listen to the turmoil brewing within Delilah. They can tell she wants to end her suffering and lingering presence in this realm. But she is also torn because she wants to be with her sister.

'It comes down to this, Lily. It was supposed to be you and I, supporting one another until we were able to get out of that hell hole. One of us succeeded and left the other behind.' Delilah responds bitterly and Lily looks away.

'You're right,' Lily whispers and Delilah eyes her, almost as though she wants to believe Lily's words but doesn't want to at the same time because of her rage at the situation. 'I got too wrapped up in my new life that I forgot who it was that led me to it. And when I lost you…my world came crashing down. Will you forgive me? I want peace…for both of us.'

Rose fiddles with her hands glancing up to the Doctor. He watches her as well before his gaze drifts back to Lily and Delilah. He worries when he sees Richard approaching Lily and he worries that his presence there will be detrimental to Delilah forgiving Lily and moving on. He nudges Rose and she looks a little surprised as well. They motion to get his attention which he fails to see but the girls, Lucy and Leah all catch it. Rose presses her lips to them while she crouches down and shrugs off the Doctor's attempt to grab her.

She's already been possessed, so if she needs to be again, then so be it to keep him safe. She passes the séance table where she looks up to Delilah who is struggling to decide whether or not to forgive her sister. Sadly, for Delilah, Rose can see every emotion in her eyes. The anger…she can see that Delilah loves her sister, which is why she must be tremendously sorry for her actions. But then…Delilah closes her eyes. Effectively saying she's turned away. Lily must interpret is as a sign of acceptance because she holds her hand out, reaching for her sister that Rose isn't certain is there. Vengeance changes people, alters their best qualities and twists itself in their minds until so little is left of their authentic self that when they manage to achieve their revenge, they aren't the same. Because their sames have gone. Undoubtable gone for so long that there's nothing that can be done to fill it or to cling to as a sense of anchor to ground them. They drew up the anchor long ago. Lily may have caused the first wound but Delilah is causing the rest.

She watches as Richard nearly grabs Lily and Delilah opens her eyes. Hardened. Rose opens her mouth to shout at him to get away but Delilah sees her first and lifts her hand. Rose is flung backward and the Doctor dashes forward to catch her however she's tossed right into him and the both fall to the floor. That didn't go as planned.

Lucy cries out in shock as the iron poker is yanked from her grasp and careens towards Richard. Everyone shouts at him to get out of the way and he turns around just in time to see the poker strike him in the chest. Lucy screams and scrambles to get to him, Lily is stunned as the poker has touched her and she slowly fades away while Delilah glares at her before her glare morphs into a grin. Rose and the Doctor manage to untangle themselves from one another and rush to Richard as Lucy cradles him, tears pouring down her face. Leah yells at the girls to look away while Leah presses her hand to the wound, since Lucy can do nothing at the moment, she's in a state of shock. Rose slides in on her knees and gently moves Leah's hands out of the way to look at the wound. The Doctor confronts Delilah who is watching the scene unfold.

The girls listen to the whispering that's erupted around them. They keep calling for Lily. But they can't hear her. They can't see her. How long does it take to collect herself? They worry that in the time it takes for Lily to come back things will have gotten progressively worse. They hold hands and begin to attempt a connection with her, hoping to guide her back.

The Doctor and Delilah continue to stare at one another. He knows he can't win against her but dammit if he's not going to try to talk her out of this mood she's in. She's hurt Lily. She's won her battle with Richard. What's to stop her from targeting them all next?

The Doctor glances over his shoulder to where Richard is lying in Lucy's arms. Somewhat lucid but he fears that that could change at any time. Delilah folds her arms, challenging him. 'So, you've gotten your revenge. How do you feel?'

Delilah looks away. 'Not as you thought you would, do you?'

'You don't know what I feel.' Delilah snaps. The Doctor smirks at her.

'I do. Years of love have been forgot in the hatred of a minute.'

Delilah walks towards the Doctor and he holds his ground as he feels the coldness radiating off her. 'It takes a monster to destroy a monster.'

'He's only a monster because he took your sister away from you. And you projected your anger at her abandoning you onto him.'

'Yes, of course,' Delilah frowns and her dark eyes searching his own. She twists the end of her hair. She looks over to Richard, struggling to breath, to that dimwit Lucy. The pair of blondes working together to save his life. Leah talks soothingly to him while the other blonde Rose works to stem the bleeding. 'For years my demons had been quiet though never entirely silenced. While they were calm they waited patiently for the sign to awaken, to take an overdue breath and whisper in my ear once again while I missed so desperately their company.'

'Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. Do you believe life is more beautiful after death?' The Doctor questions and nearly recoils when Delilah places her hand on his cheek. She is so frigid.

'It depends. After the death of who?'

'This is not you.'

'I can't say you know me well enough to determine my character. But I know you. You men think that you know all women, that you have dominion over us.' Delilah whispers. Rose looks over to the Doctor and her heart beat quickens when she sees how close Delilah is.

She chides herself and focuses on Richard. She frowns. She had taken the poker out but the wound almost felt superficial. He bleeds but it's not a steady stream. If anything he seems disorientated. Rose begins to feel around his chest and is stunned by what she finds concealed in the inner jacket pocket.

'You think that because of the type of men you met in your profession. The seedy people of society, the users and the takers.' The Doctor explains and Delilah pauses to listening to the whispering of those who continued to linger in the room.

Delilah can't hear Lily's voice. It makes her angry that Lily was hit with the iron. What if she destroyed Lily forever? That though shocks her more than it should. Despite everything…she loves Lily. That thought and realisation drives her to tears. The Doctor places his hands on her shoulders. She looks up to him. He can see the admission within her. She solved nothing. She looks away and smiles.

'I wanted to forget the past, but it refused to forget me. Maybe I wanted it that way. It waited until I dropped my guard down and cornered me, smothered me until I could think naught of anything else,' Delilah admits and the Doctor gives her an understanding smile. 'The hardest, coldest people you meet, were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living.' Delilah proclaims and Rose stares at her stunned. She looks away and back to the Bible that Richard had stashed into his pocket. It has the piercing of the poker reflective on the front cover and it bleeds into the pages. That Bible took the brunt of the force in which Delilah had hurled the poker. It saved his life.

'Richard, how are you feeling?' Rose wonders and he turns his gaze to her and frowns. He blinks a few times. He feels around his chest at the wound. Certainly he's a bit confused.

'Lily…?' He breathes and reaches to touch her face. She smiles but shakes her head.

'Nope. Wrong flower.' Rose moves out of his way while he sits up with a light struggle and look around at the group surrounding him.

'I am not dead?' He questions incredulously and Rose smiles, holding the Bible up in her hands.

'Nope. This saved your life.'

Richard reaches for it and runs his fingers over the cover lightly. He looks up to Rose. 'This was Lily's.' He opens it and flips through the pages, eyes becoming wide at sight of how many pages are damaged. All of them. He looks at his chest, the bloody hole where he was struck is nothing more than a flesh wound that will heal. Lily saved his life even in death. Rose frowns when he flips through something dark left in the book. She takes the book from Richard. A lock of hair? Rose frowns and studies it. She widens her eyes. It's Delilah's. She just found them their leverage. She puts the lock of hair back into the book and keeps the book close. Just in case.

Maggie and Katie are successful in locating Lily and gently guide her back to the light, she doesn't offer resistance and the girls watch as Rose slings Richard's arm over her shoulder and with Leah's help they get him up on his feet. Lucy embraces him fiercely, stunned at what she just witnessed. She nearly sends him tumbling backward but Leah manages to catch them both.

'Doctor?' Rose calls to him and he turns around, winking at her. He obviously must be making progress. That's somewhat relieving. She tenses when Delilah takes a few steps back and Rose is rather surprised to see that she actually appears lighter than before. Maybe getting revenge will do that. She wouldn't know.

'Listen to me, Delilah. You were jealous of your sister's easy ability to find love in and in turn left you to fend by yourself. You brooded alone while sick and planned a way for you to exact revenge on the man who stole your sister away from you even though you had no idea that her own guilt drover her to take her own life.

'You've tasted revenge and it was nothing but ash in your mouth. Why didn't it make you happy? Because revenge never does. It never will. It won't be easy but you need to let this go. Or you will be trapped in limbo wandering around until the end of time. That's a cruel, self-inflicted punishment. Heal. Healing doesn't mean that the damage never existed, it means the damage no longer controls your life.'

Delilah gazes at Richard who is sitting in a chair that Lucy brought over to him. Can she forgive him for taking her sister from her? Can she forgive Lily for forgetting her? She stopped being a forgiver so long ago. Her heart used to be so large, full of hope and caring that she truly didn't want to give up on people because she believed that they were good, especially those she loved. However, as the years slipped by, she was trampled on one too many times until she had no choice to harder herself against the abusers and let go of those who burned holes into her heart. She carried her anger for years and it changed her. The Doctor was right, what does she gain from this?

'Well, Delilah? Can you forgive my actions?' Delilah turns around to see Lily standing in the doorway to the parlour. Delilah looks up to Doctor who gives her a small nod. She can practically hear him telling her to allow it to happen. They can be reunited finally after all this time.

First, Delilah moves to Richard who stares at her with hesitation and Rose moves herself closer to them, just in case things don't go as planned. Delilah exhales.

'Richard. I would like to apologise to you. I directed my anger at you and I shouldn't have.'

Richard eyes her. 'You took my fiancée away from me.' He responds coldly and Rose closes her eyes, wanting to scold him for his close mindedness. They so nearly had a breakthrough.

The Doctor sighs audibly and Lily instantly appears by Richard's side. He jumps and Lily shakes her head at him. She pauses and then smiles softly, placing her hand on his cheek before she steps back and walks towards Delilah. Lily stops by her side and takes her hand. Delilah holds on to it tightly.

'Richard. Please listen. Del didn't take me away from you. I selfishly removed myself from your life. Del was not to blame. I love you both so much but I felt as though I couldn't please anyone.'

Richard looks away. How can he forgive Lily for leaving him? Granted, it has been remarkable to see her and to speak with her. But he wants to know where he goes from here? Will he never see her again after this? Her sister whom he met only once blamed him for taking Lily away from her where as he blamed Lily for killing herself solely on the fact that he didn't let her sister move in with them. To live out her life in comfort before she succumbed to her illness. Now every argument they had over that issue seems stupid.

He tries to be open minded. Two sisters who turn to whoring to support themselves. He saved one and she wanted to move her sister into their home before she died of consumption. He selfishly believed that moving a whore into his home would spark rumours amongst his circles that he'd never shake them. So he quarrelled with Lily over the matter. Maybe she was afraid that if she continued to push the matter he would send her back to where she came from. All the while her silence with her sister drove a wedge between them so large that they were not on speaking terms. And he surely had a hand in that. Imagine her surprise when she learns that her sister had passed away from consumption and she wasn't even there to hold her hand as she passed on to meet her maker. She hid her grief so well. He'd catch her lamenting over her sister's death but he wishes that he had closely watched her. If he hadn't left her alone…maybe she'd still be here. Apart at their deaths, reunited finally in the afterlife.

Richard looks to Lucy who is watching him with quiet the judgemental stare. She is practically telling him that he has lost his mind. Maybe he has. And what's wrong with that? Perhaps she's more concerned with his flesh wound and isn't at all concerned with what is happening in front of her eyes, Lucy's always been like that, she has the need to be the centre of attention at all times.

He looks at Lily who has an encouraging look in her eyes. So does everyone else around them. What will happen if he says he can't forgive Lily's sister? Would it even matter? They have one another again, now maybe they can fade in obscurity and he can get on with his life. Her death has haunted him for so long. Years he waited for answers as to why. Now he's gotten them and the answer has been less than satisfying. Maybe she was simply beyond saving. Then again he should have tried and not wrapped himself up so entirely in his career. However, none of this matters now, does it?

'Lily, I can't forgive her…but I will try to do that…for you.' Richard confesses and a collective sigh is quietly exhaled around the room. Lily embraces Richard tightly and after some time has passed, he carefully wraps his arms around her, trying to remove himself from the thought that she will not be here much longer.

'Our brief time together was happiness that I've never known,' Lily whispers and places a kiss on his cheek. 'Goodbye, Richard…'

He doesn't get to say another word to her as she walks back towards Delilah and they grasp hands and exchange a final look before they fade away into nothing.

The moment they are gone the air in the house dramatically shifts. The stifling atmosphere, the thickness of their surroundings evaporates into nothing. The dark cloud is gone. Light once again pours through the windows and the room temperature returns normal. Oddly there is only silence. A reflective nature takes over everyone. No one makes eye contact with anyone else save the floor, the walls or ceiling. The girls hear nothing but silence in the veil, Delilah's stirring up of the souls she collected around her dissipated when she accepted her death and laid her vengeance down to bed.

Rose and the Doctor sit on the floor together, taking a moment to relive what's just happened. He puts his arm around her shoulders and she exhales her anxiety. What's the lesson here? Don't they always come away with a lesson? Rose looks up to the Doctor and he gives her a little smile, a relieved one. One that says he's rather glad that's done, as anti-climactic as it was.

Back to her thought on the lesson. What is it? Is it that everyone has a story to tell, a lesson to teach and some wisdom to impart? Life, however tragic can still evolve into a beautiful masterpiece that is stitched together by one's experiences. One's story must be shared; one must open up because that story could inspire others. Differences can be made because people matter. There are stories behind every person, a reason they are the way they are, and they are to be respected for who they are.

Seems a good enough lesson to her. Rose rests her head on the Doctor's shoulder, exhaustion finally starting to take its toll on her. Strangely she doubts she can sleep as the memories of that veil begin to creep into her mind.

* * *

'From now on, girls, just stick to the parlour tricks, it will save a lot of hassle the next time.' The Doctor tells Maggie and Katie as he embraces them tightly together.

'We will. But what if they want to be heard?' Maggie wonders. The Doctor pauses and Rose pulls away from Leah.

'Tell you what, why don't you write down what they say as you're listening to them and then burn what you've written. You don't want to dwell on what they'll tell you, it'll consume you.' Rose offers and the girls nod after they exchange looks. That might save them a lot of time, the spirits can talk and they will listen, but no more will they play around in the veil. It's too unpredictable and one never knows what one may summon to the living world.

'And um, you might want to keep them away from the champagne…' The Doctor whispers in Leah's ear as they embrace one another. Leah widens her eyes over his shoulder and attempts to pull him away however he holds her tightly.

'What?' Leah wonders softly and the glances to the girls who are locked tightly into a hug with Rose.

'The champagne. In a few years, it'll make more sense…'

'Thank…you? I will take that advice to heart…' Leah replies and finds that comment odd. Or does she? The girls do get rather excited at the prospect of there being champagne with social gatherings and events.

Maggie and Katie pull away from Rose in a flourish, yet they try to mask their fears from what they just saw the moment they touched her. Thankfully Rose didn't seem to notice their immediate draw back. They smile through gritted teeth as Rose and the Doctor head out of their home hand in hand once the doors shut, Leah sighs and says something to the girls they don't hear. Soon after they hear something rustling in the kitchen.

'Did you see…?' Katie whispers and Maggie nods her head, they hold hands. 'Mags, do you think we should let them know? They are only a block or two from us…we could catch them…'

'No…we can't…it wouldn't be fair. She can't know that it's coming up…' Maggie decides and Katie bites her lip.

'That's horrible…'

'The future seems so…sterile.' Maggie comments and Katie nods her head. Together they head up the stairs to their room. They need a break from the visions and spirits whispering in their ears.

They need to put this day behind them…and yet they can't shut out the voices in their mind of people working hard and in a flourish. There was so much red in their minds. The voices so desperate and firm. It isn't something they can easily block out. The guilt eats away at them hours after the ordeal was settled. They rationalise it as best they can. No one can know. How can they make it stop?

 _Multiple gunshot wounds. Two in abdomen, one in right arm._

 _Name?_

 _It's…_

… _losing blood, fast!_

… _flat lining!_

 _Clear! Nothing! Again, again! Clear! Come on, give me a pulse…_

 _We've lost…_

… _nothing more we can do…_

 _Do you want to call it?_

 _No!_

… _call it…_

… _Time of death…_

* * *

She's not sleeping. She's taking cat naps, as she calls them. Only a few hours here and there. She won't say why, but he can guess. She's been spending more time away from him, isolating herself from her surroundings. She only mentioned the veil when he pressed her. Vague answers, horrors in her mind that projected themselves into the realm she was in. It scared her. Shook her faith in herself and tested her sanity. Multiple times. Creatures that chased her and what she saw wasn't something she aimed to repeat. When she closed her eyes, she saw herself back in that realm, watching the events unfolding. Maybe it's the truth, but something else shook her to her core. She isn't saying what.

He tried getting it out of her…she won't say anything. She's been wrapping herself up in her hobbies, focusing on anything to distract her mind. She's been sparring, running, yoga and skating to forget things. It's amazing her body is responding so well to being pushed as it is without sleep. But she so desperately needs it. The circles under her eyes are getting deeper in their impression.

He's always wanted to enjoy ice skating on the Rideau Canal but just…never got around to it, which is why he created the look alike on the TARDIS, more beauty less crowds. It isn't a surprise that he finds her skating here. It's rather astounding how many new things she got to try when she came roaring back here. She's quite good at it, too. She performs a one handed Biellmann spin before lowering herself into a sit spin. As she comes out of the spin she spies him and smiles. She makes her way over to him. He decides he's going to get what's bothering her out of her. She needs to talk to him, or well…what she needs is to sleep. One way or the other one of them is getting what they want.

Rose smiles as she sits beside him, exhaling a little cloud in front of her. She leans forward and pinches the skate blade between her gloved fingers and runs her fingers back and forth a few times to clear the ice that's built up, wiping the slush on her pants.

When she straightens up the Doctor looks at her, unable to look away from the dark circles under her eyes and how bloodshot her eyes have become. She's utterly exhausted. Could he truly blame her? Still a little awkward in their relationship because of how new to one another they are, he hesitates but puts his arm around her shoulders and is rather surprised she leans in.

'You should really rest.' The Doctor tells her stupidly, unsure of what else he should tell her or how to break the silence and broach the subject carefully.

'I can't. You heard what I…said to my…self?' She frowns at her sentence, going through each word, accepting that it was weird but presses onward regardless.

'Of course I did. But that isn't the first time, we got through it. Nothing's going to happen to you. I promise.'

'How can you promise something like that? Death…just is. You can't stop it. It just…happens.'

'Is that why you're not sleeping?'

'I'm stuck on a loop. Just like before. Am I going to die in battle?'

'What did I say to you when you asked me that question years ago?' The Doctor wonders and Rose looks away. 'I told you it lied. Just as that spirit has now. It lied. Don't be scared of death. You're the strongest human I know. And that's saying something. '

She smiles. 'And the moment is gone. I'm not, at least I don't think I am. But having someone tell you that you're going to die soon, is unnerving. I can't easily come back from that.'

'Moment? I didn't mean to-…'

Rose covers his hand with her own. 'It's fine.'

He stares at her and then looks away. 'I know what you're feeling. The fear of the unknown. You've been around someone who…doesn't die. I can see why you'd be apprehensive.'

'At least you appreciate that. You get why I'm feeling this way.'

'Yes, of course. But I'm here to remind you again that it lied. And I think you need to sleep. That's why you're over thinking this, why you're on that loop. I promise you that nothing will happen.'

Rose doesn't answer but instead leans down to untie her skates and rub her feet as the blood begins to rush back into them. She always hated that feeling of pulling her skates off and then having to walk. She straightens up and gives the Doctor a passive shrug of her shoulders.

Her attitude bothers him but he says nothing. Instead he reaches to tuck the strand of hair behind her ear but deliberately touches her temple with his right hand and she instantly closes her eyes, her head lulls and Rose falls against the Doctor's chest. He wraps his arm around her and rests his cheek on her head before placing a light kiss on her head. He gently scoops her up into his arms and begins to walk her back to her room to put her in her bed for a dreamless sleep.

'I swear it, Rose, nothing will happen to you.' The Doctor declares to nothing in the halls but states it firmly in case fate may be listening.

Anything that attempts to take her from him in an unnatural way…well, nothing will be safe from him should that happen. Let it be a warning. And he doesn't warn twice. Because there is nothing in all the wild world like a desperate creature such as himself on the verge of losing love. Hypothetical or not. If it worries her then he has to be the stronger one and tell her all is well. All he'll keep telling her that until he believes it himself as well.

* * *

Hello all! I have returned. I'm so sorry it took so long to get this up. It has been a labour of love to say the least. It shouldn't have taken so long but this chapter was a total tear down at least 4 different times. The final result is this. I don't know how to explain it other than in the interim of me changing things, I've been writing other stories, side and the likes. I'm excited for the story to progress to that point. It's just the getting there. People are coming back :)

But this chapter…I don't know. It's darker for sure. I hope you like it. It's twisted. I have a feel many won't, they'll be turned off but there's nothing I can do now. I've foreshadowed enough. You can definitely tell I started working on this in December around New Years. Haha. Who doesn't love a good flashback?

Drop a review if you would be so kind. I need some ideas for original stories. I'm drawing blanks. I was thinking pirates but also trying to do one involving a famous author of the Jazz Age. But right now it's just ideas and not much else substantial.

Thanks all, I hope this chapter is worth the wait.


	3. Into the Dalek

Something rustling in here. Oh wait that's her, she's in her bed. Oh, how'd that happen? What happened and when? Why can't she _remember_ what's happened? She remembered not sleeping well for a while after that brush with the ghosts in Rochester and the imagery she had been subjected to. She had been tired but unable to close her eyes without seeing her life flash before her, her wants and desires but also the scariest thing of all to her. Whatever that spirit saw, it worried her enough that it impacted her sleep and made her question all she knew. That's what happened, right?

Rose drapes her arm across her face as she rolls over from her side to her back. She still feels in some sort of daze, groggy and confused. Where does skating on the Rideau Canal fit in to all of this? How long has she been sleeping for? Everything is all jumbled up. All she does know is that she's hungry and thirsty but at the same time she doesn't want to get up and move. Her bed is entirely more comfortable and the only safe haven she's got. That and the fact that even though she's been asleep for who knows how long, she is still drained enough that she does want to sleep a little bit more. So she draws the covers tighter to her and yawns, absently trying to recall a good chunk of time that's gone missing from her memories. It only comes in bursts to her, many links of the chain have been cut forcibly from her mind. Perhaps her way of lulling her into security so she can slip effortlessly into a dreamless sleep to recover from her ordeal. Wouldn't that be nice…?

XxX

She gasps and sits up immediately. She pants and wipes the sweat from her brow and exhales her nerves. What a weird dream. She falls back against her pillow and exhales. Here come the incoherent thoughts again. They're all running together as she struggles to remember anything tangible from what she just saw. She's so disorientated. She groans and rubs her face. Her mind is still in a daze but she feels as though she's in a better spot than she was the first time she woke up, maybe now will be the time to go ahead and piece together what's happened.

She does remember being in Rochester. Why she had gone there, well that escapes her now. Oh no wait, maybe not. Yes, she had gone to see some spiritualists, hadn't she? Huh, okay. She went with the Doctor. Of course. He had wanted to go on an adventure after he'd caught wind of a display in a shop window that had been connected to the infamous Fox Sisters. They had gone to ensure that it was nothing more than parlour tricks used to entertain their sitting guests. Well, that hadn't been the case. No, because she recalled having to search for one of the girls and she had managed to get herself pulled in to some sort of realm between realms. Not of the living and not of the dead, limbo. Purgatory? Oh…that's unsettling if it is at all true. She feels groggy and wipes the fine layer of perspiration off of her forehead. She dreamed about the visions she had seen while in Purgatory – if that is what it is to be named. And how twisted they could have become. She wanted to know why they attacked her so personally and whether it was just the woman that dominated that space or if it was that place that dominated her head. It saw such tragedies in her life and saw how it could manipulate them once again. Maybe there was no end goal in sight. Maybe it just wanted to break her. Just because that place could. However instead she survived. She always does. And then the aftermath strikes. So this is the result. Her dreams. The dreams. The ones she didn't want to have. Aside from the one about Nicholas in Yekaterinburg – which to be honest, terrified her. How close to the line she had teetered and what would have happened if a round had been loaded into the chamber. Inside she grows livid with herself at her inability to recognise the now obvious and glaring mistakes she had made the grievous error of ignoring.

It took his image and distorted it. Surely it must have known how important he was to her and that perverting his image…well, she hated herself for allowing it a spot in her mind and heart. Seeing Nicholas in any sort of capacity makes her nostalgic about a time she doesn't get to see often enough. It had been wonderful to see Nicholas in his prime at the coronation that the Doctor had taken her to when they first reconnected. She relished in his happiness and carefree attitude, how expressive his eyes were. The ravages of the War hadn't affected him, the constant worry for his son hadn't happened nor had the disappointed nation fallen on his shoulders after four consecutive daughters. Youthfulness exuberated off of him when they danced together, the fine lines in which she had memorised on his face had yet to be etched into his youth. He was just a young man taking over the reign of his beloved father whom his country loved so dearly – ready to make his mark on his country that he treasured, willing to marry a German woman whom his people disliked immensely but whom he loved and cherished so deeply.

Sadly, a mix of bad timing and circumstances created hell for him and his family and cumulated with his death and the death of his family, well most of it. She saved two of his five children. How desperately she wanted to save them all and whisk them away to live with Maria. It could not be. She should visit Ana and Alexey again. She desperately misses them.

As she did John and how she hated that whatever controlled that Purgatory realm whether it was Delilah or her troubled mind resolved him to be seen in his dying state. Stuck to the hallway of their home, nothing more. Though he held onto his humour and love of her, which she needed to keep her strong and in control. To be comforted by his touch made her so relieved to have had him there as his level head walked her through the loss of their child, together this time and not alone as she had been. His brown eyes – so vivid and as she remembered them – held hers so tenderly, so lovingly as they guided her. An anchor to hold her in place.

She never told him her desires as there had been too much going on, but she so desperately wished that he had been able to follow her here to their proper time and universe. Maybe then she'd have stayed out of trouble, maybe then she wouldn't be so jaded and bitter. Rose clutches the covers to her and glares angrily at the ceiling. It was supposed to be the two of them through thick and thin, for forever. She was robbed of it. And when she has the ability to see John, it only serves to incense her further, even though not much can be done about it now. However, she supposes that anger will always dwell within her at some capacity. Holding onto that anger does nothing for her and yet she feels that if she were to let it go she'd be letting a piece of herself go. That anger defined her. It shouldn't but it does. Even though she's forgiven those responsible for the events that transpired she has never forgotten, whether that makes her petty she truly doesn't care. That anger and resentment at the loss of John turned her into what she is today.

How would she define that? Who is she now? A weapon? A shell of her former self – not in any way the same girl she was when she first started on that path, nor should she be. People are expected to grow or else become stagnant. Then again maybe she's grown too much, is there such a thing? On the flip side can she truly say she's grown in a positive light? She has spent so much of her time dedicated to eradicating what made her truly her as told in the old days. She spent so much energy dedicated to moulding herself into what she believed would make her successful at anything she did, be it in her life or her job. She became proficient in weapons, hand to hand combat and tactical training. She perfected her poise and grew tactful in her languages and accents. She learned to control men with nothing but their desires, as they are so easily manipulated when it comes to a woman's sex appeal. She mastered in it. Took control and harnessed her physical beauty to turn it into a weapon. A femme fatale. No man says no to a beautiful woman, all they want is to be by the side of a stunning woman who reflects their wealth and power. What they didn't know is while she played the part of a vapid woman who was attracted to nothing but wealth, she was learning who her targets were. When they invited to their garden parties, she learned the landscapes, the home and its weaknesses, which could be said of her targets too. She appeared to be having fun, flirting and laughing however she was cold in her calculations. Which is why when she went in, she went straight for the weak spot.

She sighs and hugs her pillow to her chest. There are too many layers of insulation that she keeps herself protected behind. And seeing John…always makes her crumble down into what she was before she stepped foot into this universe without looking back. Rose Tyler. Nothing more and nothing less. Rose and John. When life was simple. John and Rose. When she was simple and there was nothing there to complicate her life. _Carry him with you in your heart, sweetheart._ That's what her mum said before she left there for good. She did but she wished she could go back to see him. How desperately she wanted to.

That wasn't what she dreamt of though. Not at all. It was the other man in her life. The one who made her feel things again. The one who made her question if she was that morally depraved to be involved with him. He who had managed to tear her walls down and rebuild them with windows. To let the light in. She has never been in a relationship like that before. One that evolved purely from lust. She can almost hear his voice in her mind. Never had he exchanged a look like that before with a woman. She hadn't either. It still makes her smile that it took a criminal to put her on the right track. Perhaps that's why she dreamt of him. Maybe that's why she saw her future with him in Rochester. That scared the hell out of her. That she let herself get that…well, that she allowed herself to let her guard down like that.

In her dream…it combined so many elements of her life. She questioned why she did things in that dream. She wondered if it was just her mind being stupid, or if it was a vision. Oh god, she hoped not. She buries her face into the pillow. It was a dream about a meeting. Well, that is what it was supposed to be. She had taken Jack with her. And a little boy. It was almost as though she was an intruder in her own dream the way she dreamt about it. She was her own third wheel.

It began with a meeting. A colleague who also happened to have a manipulator, and who had chosen to live in the past, only coming to future when necessary. She hadn't given it another thought when they landed in Naples in 1953. She had Jack and her little boy. It was stupid to pretend he wasn't hers. It was obvious. He belonged to her and her lover. A little boy no older than three. He was riding on Jack's shoulders, she could tell Jack was crazy about him, he had been asking Jack all sorts of questions while they were looking for their meeting spot with her colleague in the centre of the Piazza. They spotted her colleague sitting outside a café, waving them over so they had walked towards him. Well it was more like Jack and her little boy went over to see…Liam! That's her colleague's name. She heard her name called and so had turned around. She had seen her own stunned reaction as he had come towards her, shocked at who he was looking at and she had seen the anger within her own eyes for getting careless. And then the panic, because she wasn't able to go anywhere. He had seen her.

And then he had been in front of her. He had hugged her tightly. The love for him within her had made her cling to him. _Look at you, you look beautiful_. He said to her as he had brushed the hair and tears from her face. She watched herself nod stupidly, and then she had embraced him again. Why was she here? She had shaken her head into his neck, it made _her_ want to cry. And she was on the side-lines, but she had felt her own emotions. She had smiled when she saw herself studying him, placing her hand on his cheek. He had kissed her. She had kissed him. She watched and wished she could do the same. He attempted again to inquire about her life and why she was in Naples at this very moment. Rose watched the crowds move around them.

Why did she look the same as she had the last time he saw her, it had been twenty years? Rose saw she wanted to answer him but things changed when they had looked down at the little boy who called her mummy. Rose watched herself scoop him up. She watched as her lover regarded this child carefully. She studied herself as she had carefully shifted him in her arms and turned him so that he could see the little boy while she had avoided her lover's gaze. Rose had seen the surprise in his eyes. Most likely because he looked like him. Except for their little boy's eyes. They were not the dark brown that his father had, nor the hazel colour of his mother. They seemed to be a perfect blend of the two. Light. As though whiskey in a glass had been dotted with bursts of sunlight.

 _Cute kid_ , he had told her. She had thanked him. Rose had seen the look in his eyes as he had continuously watched the little boy as he had played with her hair and watched the people over her shoulder. _Mummy, everyone is waiting_. He had informed her seriously. It had peaked his attention because he had directed his gaze to where the two men waited for her. _People to see_ , he assumed to her. She had shrugged, _did you want me to go? Or stay?_ He had smirked at her. Rose had waved Jack on. So they had gone to another little café not far from Jack just in case they needed one another. Her little boy sat on her lap while they had done nothing more but study one another. She could tell he wanted to hold him, to talk to him…he's already utterly enamoured with him. She wanted to run up to their table and tell him how sorry she was.

She had assumed that she had seen him multiple times as Ruby, however this was the first time that he was seeing her as Rose. Bittersweet. She hadn't a clue where or when the little boy was conceived in all this, it had to have been a Ruby visit. What else made sense? Obviously nothing. But Rose had lingered close to their table and ached for the accident she had created. She had robbed a man of a chance he was never supposed to get. And she scolded herself as the tears fell from her eyes, this is what happens when you get complacent, stupid. Look at what you've done. Even though you haven't done it yet.

She begged herself not to let this happen. It couldn't. She didn't want it to. Don't let this be a vision. Her heart breaks when she watches her lover study her little boy. The emotion in his eyes breaks her heart into smaller pieces. His little boy. Their son. The conversation they had in that 50s hospital rings in her mind. How desperately he clawed at her resolve to let him in, to let him be a part of his life. But no. She had stuck to her guns. This was an accident. To meddle with history was one thing, but to meddle and create consequences. Dire mistake. She hated herself for it.

Rose sits up and wipes the tears from her eyes. Please. She begs, please never let her get into circumstances that result in that. Let her be cold and calculating. Let her break hearts and have enough strength to say no. She will let her walk become whiskey in a teacup. A clear shot. It will be strong and full of purpose. So many will underestimate her punch. Ha, let them.

Give her the strength to leave those behind when she needs to and not let her love of whoever - but especially Charlie - cloud her judgement. She has to be fiercely fragile. Her glass heart behind a stony stare. One of them has to be the strongest out of the pair of them. They cannot have a child together. It isn't right. Isn't fair. And no good will come of it. He would never know but she always would. She cannot do that to herself either. To look in those little boy's whiskey coloured eyes and see her lover there as well. She cries. She cries that she wants that and cries because she can't. Happiness is not meant for those who walk the path she does. And what path is that? She doesn't know anymore. All she does know is that happiness is fleeting. She cannot get what she wants. She eats the lies because her heart is hungry.

Brusquely, she wipes her face with the back of her hand and clear her throat. It's time to stop the pity party for one. Once and awhile these little break downs are okay, but she can't do this all the time. She has to stop thinking about things like this or she'll just head down some kind of shame spiral until she's consumed by nothingness. She needs to clear her mind. There are so many intrusive thoughts. They make her depressed and melancholy. Something she doesn't want to feel. Now isn't the time for that. How can she make them go away? Perhaps they will fade away on their own. Little thoughts that will evaporate into nothing when she finally finds herself in some kind of routine. Remember, she tells herself as she slides off her bed and stretches. She's tired and wants to sleep but fears she'll want to do nothing more while she catches up on the much needed rest. There'll be time for that later. What can she do to relax, unwind and get back into the swing of things? You have an entire plethora of new interests to busy yourself with, yeah? What makes her feel so good that she forgets her worries for a while? Running. Sparring. Yoga. Surfing and skating. Anything. She can do it. Truthfully a run does sound the most mind numbing at this point, requires little thinking and nothing but her and nature. She begins to dig through the piles of clothing to find her running gear. A good long run followed by a long hot shower. That'll straighten her out in no time.

She throws her hair up into a ponytail and glances to the ceiling.

'Where's your favourite place at the moment?' Rose questions the TARDIS. A light hum makes her smile. 'Okay, but that's a little humid, isn't it? Do you have a backup? Now we're talking. Would you be so kind…? Ah, you're the best.'

Rose walks into the halls and listens to the TARDIS quietly chattering away around her. She smiles. She seems to be so glad that things are beginning to shape up again. Small moments like this make her glad she's come back along. It's the bond she shares with this ship. Not that she's had a chance to truly connect with the TARDIS as she had when she housed the Vortex, though she believes she's close to the ship for that very reason. That kind of bond can't be swept away, at least not in her eyes. She has a feeling the TARDIS feels the same way she does. Thankfully. She walks down the hall until she gets to the room she's been waiting for.

'Don't wait up, yeah? Oh, and keep an eye on him for me, will you? Thanks. See you on the other side!'

Rose walks through the door and switches to her running playlist. Here we go…

* * *

Besides returning from her two hour plus run absolutely ravenous and entirely drenched in a fine layer of hard earned sweat, a hot shower with a soothing Epsom salt pre-soak left her feeling entirely too relaxed. Burning a pair of bread slices left her with smelling burnt toast half way down hallway towards the heart of the TARDIS, the console room. Rose runs her hand through her still damp locks as she takes a large bite of toast slathered in peanut butter. She has a feeling she's gonna regret drinking that protein shake as quickly as she did, however there isn't much that can be done now. She asked for a status report from the TARDIS on how the Doctor managed to fair in her absence, but strangely she has been silent. Unlike her. A little concerning.

So was the tension she felt herself walk into when she entered the console room. Even more so was the sight of the Doctor staring at something she couldn't see from her vantage point but she did catch the Doctor holding a tray that has three coffees in it. How's he going to explain that to Clara? She's in the middle of chewing and smiles the Doctor when he turns over to her.

'Hey, what's going-…'

'You! Hands where I can see them!' Someone interrupts her hastily.

Rose blinks and side steps a bit to the right to see who had been yelling that command. A desperately fearful woman is standing the room aiming a gun at her. That explains the Doctor's silence and obvious tension. She isn't going to settle for this. Whether she's walked into something or not – the Doctor evidently has a reason for bringing this stranger on board – and judging by the woman's quick trigger finger, she didn't ask for this. Oh, and the fact that she doesn't respond well to having a gun aimed in her chest.

'Listen, I'm starving, so I'm gonna keep eating here. I'm not armed and I'll let you two finish your standoff.' Rose tells the woman and she walks down the stairs and towards the Doctor who has been quiet. Rose hears the gun get cocked.

'I said put your hands up!' The woman demands once again. Rose ignores her.

'One of those for me?' Rose points to the coffee and the Doctor nods. He points and she takes the cup, inhaling the calming aroma. 'So, why don't you tell me what's been going on?'

'Do you always ignore someone with a gun telling you what to do?' The woman questions and Rose peers around the console. The woman's rigid body and fearful eyes tell her to be careful, even though the gun is squarely aimed at them, she's lowered it slightly.

Rose smiles at the woman. 'I do. Mostly because I don't care. I'm tired. And hungry.'

The woman grips the railing. She frowns and blinks. The Doctor shakes his head as Rose offers him a piece of her toast, frowning.

'You'll probably feel a bit sick. Please, don't be,' The Doctor tells the woman. He watches Rose set down her remaining toast on the controls. 'Don't get crumbs in the wires or controls.'

'I won't,' Rose replies with a small glare. 'How long was I asleep for?'

'Where's my brother?' The woman questions desperately when the wave of sickness passes her and she straightens up. She looks up to see the blonde woman and the man standing shoulder to shoulder.

'You were asleep for nearly thirty-six straight hours. I was concerned. I checked on you, multiple times but I just let you sleep. You're grumpy in the morning,' The Doctor informs her and Rose arches her eyebrow at him. She opens her mouth to say something but the Doctor interrupts her. 'Hello, I'm the Doctor. This is Rose.'

He doesn't miss the look Rose gives him, an impatient look. She'll do her own introductions when the time is right. Oh well, it's too late to dwell on that now. The woman seems to ignore that. Instead she looks around the console room once more, Rose watches her as she finishes her toast. Not the greatest, but it hit the spot.

'He was right beside me. Where's Kai? How did I get here?' She demands and Rose sees her eyes become glassy. She looks up to the Doctor because hell, she'd like an explanation too. Tears slide down the woman's face and she hastily wipes them away while aiming her gun at both of them.

'I materialised a time capsule exactly round you and saved your life, one second before your ship exploded, but do please keep crying.' The Doctor tells her impatiently and Rose throws her hand into his chest. What was that for? She glares up at him. Tact, her looks tells him. He shakes his head, what's the point? Why beat around the obvious?

That comment about crying obviously irked the woman enough, Rose truly can't blame her. But it seems that the comment has made the woman furiously wipe away her tears and grit her teeth.

'My brother's just died.' The woman seethes and the Doctor takes a light drink from the coffee and looks at her that wonders what the point is.

'But his sister didn't. You're very welcome. Put the gun down.' He demands and Rose takes a seat on the console chair, making herself comfortable as she continues to watch the power struggle between the two of them play out.

'Or what?' The woman sneers and the Doctor points to Rose.

'I'll unleash her on you,' He replies and Rose sighs. 'I'm only kidding. I'm asking you because you might shoot us. Then where will you be?'

'In charge of your vessel.' The woman replies confidently and the Doctor shakes his head at her.

'You'd starve to death trying to find the light switch.' The Doctor states equally as confident. Rose rolls her eyes as she gets up from the seat and places her arm on the Doctor's shoulder, attempting a different angle.

'What's your name?'

'What business is it of yours?'

Rose pinches the bridge of her nose. Get that anger in check. 'I only ask because you know ours. I was hoping you'd extend the same courtesy.'

The woman debates Rose's request a little bit longer before seemingly making up her mind. 'I'm Lieutenant Journey Blue of the Combined Galactic Resistance. I demand you take me back to my command ship, the Aristotle, which is currently located-…'

The Doctor throws his hand up and cuts Journey off. 'No. Hey, not like that.'

Journey narrows her eyes. 'You _will_ take me back to my command ship, which is currently located-…'

'No, no. Come on. Not like that. Not like that. Get it right.' The Doctor chides and Rose finishes off her coffee, closing her eyes and stretching. Rose locks eyes with Journey and she nods her head. Journey slowly and maybe reluctantly lowers her gun. Rose flashes her an appreciative smile.

'Things will go smoother if you just do as he says. And mind your manners.' Rose informs her and Journey sighs audibly. Impatiently. She doesn't like being told what to do. Rose doesn't blame her, she understands it.

'Will you take my back to my ship?' Journey begins and remembers the look Rose gave her. 'Please.'

The Doctor nods his head and passes Rose his coffee and the tray. She accepts both and steals another sip from his. She's so thirsty all of a sudden. 'The Aristotle's the big fella parked in the asteroid belt, yeah?' He wonders rhetorically as he sets the TARDIS in motion and scolds Rose with a look as he catches her taking a sip.

'What? I'm sorry. I'm hungry and thirsty.' Rose frowns when he takes his coffee away from her.

'Then don't forget to sleep for days on end.' The Doctor reminds her and grips the console as the TARDIS lurches slightly and Journey loses her balance and hits the railing. She looks around and wonders where they're going.

'It's shielded.' Journey interjects into their petty argument. The Doctor looks over to her with a sly shrug. Rose uses the monitor to zoom in on the ship. It doesn't look heavily armed in her opinion. She narrows her eyes to get a better look.

'More or less,' The Doctor replies and Rose grips the console tighter as the TARDIS swings around the asteroid belt to find the Aristotle hiding by one edge of a lone, thin asteroid. 'Dry your eyes, Journey Blue. Crying's for civilians. It's how we communication with you lot.'

Journey turns to the TARDIS doors and Rose tugs the Doctor's sleeve. He turns to her and she motions to the monitor. Frowning he takes a better look at the ship they've just boarded.

'It doesn't look like a war ship, does it?' Rose wonders and the Doctor shakes his head. 'Very lean. Also, why'd you get us mixed up in the Combined Galactic Resistance?'

'I assure you it was only me trying to do a good thing. Though I botched it. I only saved one. I tried for two.' The Doctor confesses and Rose can see the defeat flash in his eyes. He looks forlorn and away from her. She covers his hand with her own. It forces him to shift his gaze back to her.

'You still saved one person. It's better than none.' Rose reminds him and he nods appreciatively. They look over to where Journey has opened the door and Rose watches her instantly relax, comforted by her surroundings that she knows so well. A time to grieve will soon overcome her.

'Well then, Rose Tyler, are you ready to face the unknown?'

'Sure, I don't think we have much of a choice.'

Together they walk towards where Journey has taken a step out into the interior of the Aristotle. The TARDIS has managed to park herself in a corner of larger section of the Aristotle. Rose peers over the shoulder of the Doctor just in time to see a man dressed in soldier's attire driving by on a small buggy. Journey walks a few steps out of the TARDIS and turns around to survey it. She widens her eyes before she leans to the left and right trying to see around the TARDIS entirely.

She waits until the Doctor and Rose have stepped out and the door shuts behind them. Journey folds her arms and motions to the TARDIS. 'It's smaller on the outside.'

The Doctor sighs and shrugs in agreement. 'It's a bit more exciting when you go the other way,' He pauses and notices things that strike him as odd. This is supposed to be a battleship. Rose was right, it's too lean. This is something masking as something else. 'This isn't a battleship. Medical insignia. It's a hospital.' He points out and Rose nudges him, watching an approaching collection of men that centre around an older man with greying hair. Every single one of them are armed to the teeth.

'We don't need hospitals now. The Daleks don't leave any wounded, and we don't take any prisoners.' The older man explains and Rose groans. She and the Doctor exchange looks. He appears apologetic.

'Daleks. It had to be Daleks.' Rose grumbles. The Doctor points to Journey.

'I saved your little friend here, if that's in any way relevant to mention.' He attempts and Journey nods her head. Rose is watching the men behind them. Some of them have an itchy trigger finger. Other appear afraid and tired of the constant death. It'd be hard to charge into battle when you're consistently out ranked.

'It's true sir, he did.'

'Thank you.' The man replies and the Doctor smiles.

'You're welcome. I wish I could have done more.' The Doctor admits and the man's eyes narrow, almost in a mocking way. His next words are cruel and to Rose unnecessary.

'Then you should have.'

The Doctor eyes him. 'Okay.'

The man relents and Rose continues to get an uneasy feeling around him. She watches his goons carefully. 'But you did save Journey, and for that I am personally grateful.'

'You're _so_ welcome.' Rose interjects to gauge his reaction. The man turns to her with a frown and a disgusted look. A mischievous look flashes in his eyes. It's gone. Rose braces herself.

'Be that as it may. The security of this base is absolute. So we're still going to kill you both.' The man informs them casually. Rose sighs impatiently and the Doctor frowns in confusion.

'Oh, it's a roller coaster with you, isn't it?' He wonders rhetorically and the man glances back to his men and most of them nod at the man. Rose readies herself for a fight to the death and mentally begins to count the number of men and guns that each one has. Including hand guns.

The older man has already walked a few paces. 'Shoot them, bag them and throw them outside.'

'No! Stop!' Journey cries amidst the cocking of all the weapons and Rose eyes the Doctor wondering what they've gotten themselves into.

'Hang on a second, hot shot, what gives you the right?' Rose calls to the older man, he pauses and turns around, marching towards Rose who watches his hand gun holstered by his hip in her peripheral vision.

'You and your friend, may be duplicates.' The man replies assuredly and Rose walks into his face, she steadies herself and defaults to her training. She wants that gun.

'Do I look like a copy?' Rose wonders, batting her eyelashes. The man hesitates, lost in those hazel eyes, the flecks of gold draw him in further. 'C'mon. Copies usually lack something, what am I lacking that you don't believe I can be real?' Rose keeps her hands at her side, the tension is too thick. Not yet.

'You make good points, sweetheart. But I need to keep my crew safe. You understand, don't you? We'll even spare a thought for you and your friend. No hard feelings?' The man wonders and swallows a lump in his throat when he feels the barrel of a gun at his chest.

'No hard feelings, mate. And don't call me sweetheart.' Rose replies and the rest of the man's crew members aim at Rose. She doesn't flinch and the Doctor shakes his head at her impulsiveness. Journey gapes. No one takes on the Captain.

He chuckles. 'What are you going to do, shoot me? You'll be dead before you pull that trigger.'

'Then we've reached an impasse, haven't we?' Rose replies and the captain watches her carefully to see if there's a hint of fear in her that he can use, manipulate her with it. But she's colder than the ship when it passes through the Ice Belts of Yumurri.

The captain gives the men behind them a curt nod and they lower their weapons. Rose waits until the men over his shoulder direct the barrels of the weapons to the ground. She slowly retracts her hand and empties the cartridge of bullets before passing the weapon back to the captain's hands. The bullets still clink on the ground and he looks at them briefly before he holsters the weapon.

'You know I can reload.'

Rose folds her arms. 'Gives me a bit of time to prep before you shoot me the moment my back's turned.'

'Guilty.'

'Uncle, don't you see?' Journey begins and trots to catch up to the captain as he's marching away, he turns his head towards her but then shift his gaze back to glaring ahead of him. 'Uncle stop. Didn't you hear the man? He's a doctor, we've a patient, don't we?'

He stops. Journey is right. Damn, he hates when she's right. He turns around to see her smiling at him. She knows he knows she's right. He looks over her shoulder to where the man, still stoic in his appearance motions to the blonde woman beside him. She smiles at waves at him. This is going to be a nightmare he can feel it.

He motions them to come forward. The Doctor moves first and gives a look at Rose to let the animosity go and fall in line. Well, she'll let the confrontation go but she never falls into anyone's line. She'll be cautious enough for the both of them. The gap slowly closes between them. The Doctor can see the men behind the captain of this ship eyeing them carefully. He looks down to Rose.

'Do you usually make friends so easily wherever you go?' He whispers and Rose eyes him up. How much of his memories of her have begun to trickle through is still up in the air, she can't tell. He's so difficult to read now. That has yet to get any easier for her.

When she looks over to him, or his cold eyes hold her warm ones…that's all it is. A glare or stare. They're strangers to each other. An ember smoulders between them. But she thinks it's dying. And if they don't start fighting to keep it burning, it may just go out forever. She doesn't want that to happen, but she also doesn't want to be the only one who's fighting. That'd be long and drawn out. They'd part ways then. They'd have to.

'I do. Personal space and safety are a must for me. You remember how I dislike weapons aimed in my face.' Rose reminds him and she sees just a light smirk flash across his face.

The Doctor nods lightly. 'I do now.'

'Stick around. It only gets more fascinating the longer I'm around.'

He doesn't reply to that comment. He doesn't think it needs one. The stop in front of the captain. His boys are gripping their weapons tighter, trigger finger poised. Rose shouldn't be causing problems for them like this. No matter if it's in the best intention. It has ramifications. She's too impulsive. Has she always been like that? There was a time when she wasn't. How long ago was that.

The captain continues to eye them carefully. The blonde puts her hands on her hips as she waits for their conversation to begin. He has a bad feeling about this.

'The only reason I'm even considering this is because Journey is right. I'm putting aside my discomforts of you two being duplicates to look outside the box. We have a problem.'

'What kind of problem?' Rose inquires and the captain turns around and begins to march down the corridor. Journey follows and the men that flanked him fall into line as well. Rose takes that cue as they too must begin marching.

'Follow me and I'll show you,' The captain replies and glances over his shoulder. 'I'm Morgan, by the way.'

'I'm Rose. You've already been introduced to the Doctor.' Rose tells him and Journey can see that the Doctor is taking periodic looks at the weapons and those that holster them. She nearly offered Rose one of her guns but was stopped when Rose had dumped the ammo. She'll wish she hadn't done that if they are attacked by the Daleks once again. She also can't help but notice that they lack fear at the mention of the word Dalek.

That word is cursed. It promised nothing but death and destruction if uttered. It is a cloud that constantly hangs over them, oppressive and thick. It is a virus. The Daleks are a virus, a contagion that is constantly spreading. How do they stop something that is stronger than they are?

She stops herself from those depressing thoughts. Think too hard on those and they'll consume her. God, she hasn't been this bad since that one week a year ago that saw one of their entire platoons eradicated, she lost five friends in the matter of five minutes. And now she's lost her brother. Keep on keeping on. But when will the destruction end? Will it ever? Or will this be their legacy, passed down from the next generation to the next? Until no one can remember how the war started. Sometimes even she doesn't remember. They turn left down the next corridor.

'This problem you have? Will you elaborate?' The Doctor wonders and Rose ensures to keep her eyes forward, always moving, never lingering. Who knows what could potentially be lurking around the corners. They swing around another hall. They pass by two sliding doors. _Lab 02_ is marked in black bold lettering above the door. Rose attempts to peer in through the slits on the door but she can see nothing but a sterile room. That doesn't comfort her. She trots to catch up the group.

'Not yet. You gotta meet our problem first. Then you can ask questions.' Morgan replies firmly and the Doctor takes a sideways glance at Rose. She shrugs.

'Be nice.' She whispers and he frowns at that assessment.

'Be nice? What does that mean, be nice? What will that get me?' The Doctor laments and Rose turns her gaze forward. 'I am nice. Oi, Uncle Captain, why does a hospital need a doctor?'

Morgan glances over his shoulder and eyes the Doctor. He sighs. 'The Aristotle wasn't always hidden. The Daleks got here before us.' He explains and Rose feels her eyes widen at the mention of those evil creatures. Ugh, why did it have to be them? She rolls her neck from side to side. A part of her wonders if this will trigger the power within her to begin to awaken. She feels the same. However, she makes a mental note to start getting more in tune with herself.

Someone greets Journey as they pass by and she smiles and holds her hand up. In the process her gun touches the Doctor and he recoils from in. Moving to the other side of Rose so that he now walks on the outside left, isn't lost on Journey. Journey looks over to him and frowns, not sure of what had happened until she notices her gun. She doesn't get him.

'You don't like soldiers much, do you?' Journey comments and the Doctor leans forward to look at her. He straightens up and says nothing. After a couple of seconds pass he comments. What he says comes off as a personal attack.

'You don't need to be liked. You've got all the guns.'

Journey frowns. 'What about your girlfriend?'

'What girlfriend?' The Doctor asks alarmed and Rose sighs.

'She was referring to me.' Rose explains and that nearly makes him blush. How he manages to keep it together he doesn't know. He switches hands so that the tray he's carrying is now in his right. He shoves his left hand into his pocket. Mentioning Rose as his girlfriend sparked a weird reaction from him. Nervousness. Sweaty palms. It's been awhile.

'She's not my girlfriend. Why would you ever think that?' The Doctor wonders and Journey shrugs her shoulders.

'Why are you two travelling together?'

'I like the company.' The Doctor replies and Rose masks her own disappointment. Whether to throw them off their trail, who knows. Still hurts a bit – the being rejected in front of everyone.

'She's a soldier.' Journey states and Rose rolls her eyes with a little disgust.

'I'm not, actually.'

'Yeah. She just pretends.' The Doctor adds and Rose eyes him.

Journey doesn't buy it however she decides not to pursuit it any longer, they have their reasons for not wanting to tell her. Probably because she's a stranger. 'Well, she pretends well enough. Very believable.'

'Thanks.'

'If you three are done gabbing like girls, try and keep up, we're almost there.' Morgan calls to them and Rose feels herself wondering who this patient could be. Daleks - when they attack, they do not leave people alive. They just don't. Who is it?

Rose and the Doctor gather outside a pair of sliding doors with _Lab 01_ stamped boldly above their heads. They enter the lab and continue to walk through a long corridor. They continue walking until a room marked _078_ catches the Doctor's attention. He pauses and glances up to the two guards standing alert.

The Doctor grabs Rose's arm and yanks her towards the window, pointing excitedly at the piece of equipment. 'Wow! A moleculon nanoscaler.'

Rose eyes the equipment carefully. There is a large clear tube with bench seats down the inside. To her it resembles a decompression chamber for divers. Oh, why doesn't she have a good feeling about _that_ now too?

Journey doubles back to join them and she motions to the nanoscaler. 'You know what it does, then?'

The Doctor looks at her rather insulted that she questioned his brilliance. Rose braces herself for a long and drawn out explanation. 'It miniaturises living matter. What's the medical application, though? Do you use it to shrink the surgeons so they can climb inside the patients?'

'Exactly.' Morgan tells them and claps the Doctor on the shoulder. The Doctor pushes Morgan's lingering hand off his shoulder and brushes off his jacket.

'Fantastic idea for a movie. Terrible idea for a proctologist. Are you going to miniaturise me?' He wonders and Morgan sobers up.

'You're a doctor, aren't you?' He questions and walks down the corridor to another set of doors not far from the equipment. Rose and the Doctor share a concerned look but follow Morgan nonetheless. He pauses and waits for them only opening a pair of secured doors. A million and one thoughts pass through Rose's mind as the doors slowly slide apart from one another. She holds her breath and grabs the Doctor's hand. 'And here is your patient.' He sweeps his arm out to the side revealing their patient.

Rose gasps and instinctively the Doctor grips her hand tighter. A scratched eye piece glows blue as life awakens within it, there are wires and various cables that are disappearing into its dome. Rose doesn't what to know what for, but it's undeniable. It _is_ an older Dalek. One not seen by her eyes since 2005. When she showed one mercy before she came back to utterly annihilate them all. Together they exchange sheer looks of panic between them. She increasingly grows scared this will trigger the power within her, clamouring for an excuse to be awakened. The Doctor turns back to Morgan and is shaking his head before he says anything.

'No, you don't understand. You can't put me in there.'

'…Doctor…?' The Dalek questions and Rose finds herself unable to look away. Where on earth did they find one? How did they manage to capture it alive? These are all the questions she wants to ask but her voice becomes lost in her throat. All she can do is stare stupidly at the Dalek, the eyestalk's blue light fades and comes back, it does that repeatedly. It must be dying.

'Doctor, you said to me that you wiped out their memory banks. That they aren't supposed to know you,' Rose whispers and the Doctor is not sure how this thing knows who he is. Because she's right. He did do that. 'Do you think because this one is older that it might not have gotten the message? Oh but they share a memory or something, don't they? I'm sorry…I'm rambling.'

Truthfully, he doesn't mind. Her scattered thoughts speak for his as well. She makes good points. That's why he likes having her around - amongst others. Gripping Rose's hand tighter, the Doctor takes a careful step forward. 'How do you know who I am?'

Morgan scoffs. 'He doesn't. We promised him medical assistance.'

'Are you my…doctor?' The Dalek wonders and Journey motions to the Dalek with a cold tone.

'We found it floating in space.' She explains, wondering if that was something that the pair of them were going to ask. Might as well fill in the blanks, it'll save time.

'We thought it was deactivated, so we tried to disassemble it.' Morgan adds and Rose smirks, she can't help it, they are ignorant when it comes to Daleks. Then again so is she. However, she'll take the slight interactions she's had with them over the last decade as being a tad more experienced.

'Bet all that screaming gave you lot a fright.' Rose comments and Morgan flings her a patronising smirk.

'Help me.' The Dalek breaks in and the Doctor is stunned by that omission and cry for help. Then it angers him. This Dalek demands, asks, implores, whatever, for help? A being that does nothing but cause pain and bring death and hatred wherever it goes. No.

He releases Rose's hand and stands in front of the eyestalk. 'Why would I do that?' He balks at the request. 'Why would any living creature help you?'

'Daleks will die.' It tells them and the Doctor folds his arms.

'Die all you like. Not my problem,' He retorts and turns his back to the Dalek. He walks towards Rose, fully intent on leaving this place and looks forward to making it a distant memory. 'Come on, Rose. We're leaving. This is not our problem.'

She begins to follow him. Something in her tells her to turn around, so she does. How can it be that she feels pity for this creature?! Could it be the same Dalek that she showed mercy to all those years ago? Impossible. She knows it isn't. So what in her is making her want to help this thing? When she knows it doesn't deserve anything. But at the same time she's curious. How did it come to this? Daleks never ask for help, nor do they believe in their own destruction and death.

'Daleks must be destroyed.' The Dalek states assuredly and Rose widens her eyes. Staring as the Doctor continues to leave until he hears that statement as well. He turns over his shoulder to her. They share an incredulous look, wondering if they both misheard it.

'Daleks must be de…what did you just say?' The Doctor dares to wonder if it was what he thought had been said. He finds himself wondering the possibilities of what had just been uttered. A part of him dared to dream of the reality where harmony existed. It's only when Rose grips his arm that he's jostled back to the circumstances before him.

'That can't be right…' She breathes. She's holding his harm tightly. None of this makes sense to her and even less to him. Theirs is a rich history with Daleks. His is more saturated than hers.

'All Daleks must die. I will destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks.' It declares in that voice, usually so filled with hatred for anything else living. To hear it declare a war against its own kind sends chills down Rose's spine. For reasons she isn't entirely sure. Then again maybe she just doesn't want to admit them to herself.

She catches the Doctor's eye. She can see the uneasiness that is churning within him. This is not the enemy he knows. This is not a familiar territory. Together they walk in the shadows of a new enemy. However, can this Dalek truly be an enemy when they in apparent truths have a commonality in their immense dislike of other Daleks. Morals. This Dalek has them. They should be jumping for joy the day they discovered a Dalek that was willing to go against its own kind. Instead it's met with hesitation and more questions than answers.

She looks at him. Where do they go from here? His most hated enemy has asked for help. Does he do what he does best and help those that ask for it? Or does he disregard this plea because of who it's coming from? Even if this Dalek truly does hate its own kind, to believe that should it return to its home and convert the others is a pipedream. It would be destroyed at the mere mention of going forward in peace.

'What do you want to do?' Rose wonders quietly and runs her opposite hand up his arm. How can her touch be so comforting to him? He knows she'd follow him anywhere, wouldn't she?

'What should I do? What would the Doctor do?' He replies and Rose shrugs as if he should know the answer to his question. She isn't sure if he's inquired sarcastically or he is genuinely unsure.

'The Doctor helps people.'

'But not a creature that hates so violently.'

'But you do. This is a moral creature. Reformed. How can you deny it a chance at redemption?' Rose wonders and folds her arms.

'How do you know it has truly gained morals?' He counters and Rose shakes her head.

'I am willing to take a chance. It's what good people do.'

'Am I good man?'

'Depends.'

'On what?'

'On what you choose to do at this very moment,' Rose tilts her chin away from him and he can sense the dynamic shifting between them. His sweet, trusting Rose has already declared that she will go along with this Dalek. 'Everyone deserves a chance. What do you say?'

He ponders her statement. He watches her. She didn't come out and say it but she clearly could have called him a hypocrite or that he's prejudice. She doesn't, though. She lets him make his own conclusions. But he doesn't know what to think. She guides him through uncertainty, doesn't she?

'I say…I want Clara here, too.' He decides and Rose nods her head, approving the way things are going. She's curious. She wants to see the ending of how this dramatic play will conclude.

Will this hard nose enemy finally see the light and capture a chance at redemption or will this play go from dramatic to tragedy? Something tells her that it'll be the latter. Nothing good will come of this and the conclusion will be sad and reek of disappointment and failure.

The Doctor watches emotions flash between her eyes. This little adventure will test them. Their morals and beliefs. He's quick to write of this encounter. She's curious about it. She wants to know why while he prefers to let things lie. They can be on the same page for so many other things but every once and awhile…they're so far apart it amazes him how they can come back together.

'All right. I'll help you with your problem. But first, I want to go back and pick up someone who will help,' The Doctor informs Morgan, Journey and the others. He doesn't wait for them to respond, he merely walks back through the halls and corridors towards the TARDIS. 'I'll return momentarily.' He calls to them. Rose trots to catch up to him. She can hear the soft murmur of their disapproval behind her.

She can see that he's now tense. Changed from moments ago. She cuts in front of him. He stops. She folds her arms and carefully regards him - he mimics her. Then he studies her. They battle for dominance. Who will speak first. She stuns him by embracing him fiercely. That puzzles him.

'Why is there fear in your eyes, Doctor?' She wonders, and sighs as he wraps his arms around her. He rests his chin on her head.

'Because I am fearful.'

'For what reason?'

'My question. You answered it. And yet…I don't know if I believe that. I don't know…'

Rose smiles into his chest and pulls away. She taps him on the nose.

'It seems as though that'll be a journey of self-discovery. I can help with that if you want me to.'

'I want you to. You seem to know me…better than I know myself.'

'And yet I can't tell you who you are.' Rose reminds him and he holds her close before release her and together they walk hand in hand to the TARDIS.

'No, but you can offer sage advice.'

'Isn't that your job?' She teases and he smiles straight on.

Is he a good man? He doesn't know. He believes Rose knows, but she's staying silent on the matter. He is the one that has the burning question, because she knows the answer. He'll have to answer it on his own. However, he does have this feeling that should he ever need a gentle nudge in the right direction she'd already be there to help him out.

'Well, Rose. Into darkness, we descend.'

'Clara's gonna love this one.'

They enter the TARDIS together and as it's set into motion Rose meanders around the console before sitting on the steps. A good Dalek? Who'd have thought she'd be around to see that? Deep within her however, something tells her that this is a superficial act, the deeper they descend into this madness, they will uncover the root cause of this Dalek turning against its own kind. Will they fix this or make it worse?

Can it get worse?

* * *

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS and into a rather cramped supply cupboard of Clara's school. Rose isn't sure if it's a Preparatory school as Clara has never told them the name of the school – which makes her feel awful again for not making an effort to befriend Clara. However, Rose is banking that this is an expensive private school. All of these supplies looks expensive. And much more engaging than when she went to school. Which has years ago displayed in her mind. How old is she again…? She watches Clara walk into the supply cupboard with a silly grin on her face. She finds herself grinning also. She knows that look. That's the look of a woman who's smitten with someone. She's dying of curiosity. But Clara jumps when she notices the Doctor standing in front of her with a tray and a solitary coffee still there. His peace offering for what had happened all those weeks ago. Clara glares at him.

'Where the hell have you two been?!' She demands in a loud whisper and the Doctor motions to the coffee tray.

'You sent me for coffee.' He replies innocently and Clara holds back her anger and exhales.

'No. The agreement was we would go get coffee together. Three weeks ago. You both just disappeared and left me alone. In Glasgow. Without a mobile, money…anything!' Clara tells them flatly; she finds herself raising her voice a notch higher than a whisper. Something she's not proud of, so she attempts to reign herself in.

'Three weeks is that all? No, that's a long time, you're right.' He concedes and Clara nods her head, proud to hear him tell her she's right.

'In Glasgow,' Clara reminds them and Rose offers a meek smile of apology. 'That's dead in a ditch.'

'It's not my fault, I got distracted.' The Doctor replies seriously, a touch of innocence to his voice. Rose shakes her head. Clara plants her fists on her hips.

'By what?' She demands and the Doctor looks over to Rose.

'I saw a confessional letter by a Spiritualist. We went to check them out…well, I convinced Rose to come with me to check things out. No, that's not true…together we asked questions that needed answers.' He explains and Rose again can't help notice the anger give way to a dreamy look in Clara's eyes. Ooh…something good has happened to her. Usually she's all over the Doctor when he does things like that to her…but not this time. Rose watches her, what's going on…? Instantly she knows what it is. Good for her!

'That's what distracted you?' Clara repeats with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

'If you look hard enough, you can find something,' The Doctor states and pushes a few levers. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Clara absently twists the end of her hair and a faint whisper of a smile touches the corner of her mouth. 'Why were you smiling?'

Clara widens her eyes before frowning. She looks over to Rose who is sitting on the railing with a crooked grin plastered to her face. She may be able to talk her way out of the Doctor's suspicions, but Rose is another problem all together. That just the connection women have with one another. They can tell the moment a secret like hers ebbs to the surface. She's certain Rose knows the reason she's walking around with a stupid grin plastered on her. A crush. She's got a little crush.

When Clara looks away from Rose to the Doctor who is waiting for a response, back to Rose again, her confident grin tells Clara that she's excited to hear all about it. 'Was I? No, I wasn't.'

The Doctor eyes her and her pathetic attempt to lie to him. 'You were smiling at nothing. I'd almost say you were in love, but to be honest…' The Doctor trails off when he catches a glimpse of Rose's glaring gaze at him. She's reminded him before about tact, hasn't she?

'Honest?' Clara repeats and the Doctor shrugs his shoulders. Tact. How does one be tactful?

'You're not a young woman anymore.' He informs her and Clara shakes her head, he can hear Rose sighing audibly from her spot on the railing.

'Yes, I am.' Clara counters and takes the tray of coffee he hasn't realised he's still holding. She sets them down on the console, studying him. Something…is off.

'Well, you don't look it.' He tries another angle but the words come out wrong too. At least that's what Rose's slap to his arm meant when he had gone to stand beside her. He thinks. To be honest…the words sounded fine to him. All his words are right.

Clara doesn't mind. She's grown used to it, of course. However…there's more to his careless observation of her looks. He's rambling in a sense. What's happened between him and Rose, if that's the issue. No, no that's not it. What is?

'I do look it.'

Again he smiles at her, briefly. Fleeting. It dissolves so quickly. 'Oh, that's right, keep your spirits up, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara. Clara, Clara. Clara, Clara. I need something from you. I need the truth…'

Clara watches him sit on the console steps for seconds before he's up again and wandered back over to Rose. That's…not usually like him. She glances over to Rose who gives her a little nod. Oh, Rose has already tried. It didn't work. That's shocking to her because usually Rose can make him feel better than all right. She's obviously tried. It wouldn't be like her to not try. If she wasn't successful, what makes Rose think that she would be.

Clara observes the closeness between them. While she sits on the rails, he stands beside her, leaning on them, but also touching her. He's always ensured that if they stand side by side, he has to have his body in contact with hers. That's the bond they share – envious as it is. Rose is his voice of reason, yeah? Why doesn't he believe her then? Does he need to hear it from another source to ensure it isn't just her saying that to him? He knows that she's typically right, he doesn't want to admit it.

It's up to her to bridge the gap. She doesn't know what Rose and the Doctor talked about before she arrived, all she can do is offer her best advice. Honest and unrestrained, even if it isn't what he wants to hear. So she goes to the steps and sits. There is silence. For a brief moment. Then Clara hears footsteps and the Doctor lowers himself to sit beside her.

'Right. So the truth. What is it? What's…?' Clara trails off when the Doctor turns to look at her. There is fear. So much. It takes her off guard and she struggles with what to say. What scares the Doctor? She stumbles on her response. So she defaults to the obvious. 'You're scared.'

He looks away. 'Terrified.'

'Of what?' Clara breathes at his confirmation. He looks back to her. His expression becomes unreadable.

'The answer to my next question, which must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint.' The Doctor explains and Clara frowns.

'So you came to me for that answer?' She nearly adds the question of why. Does he view her as cold and unkind? No, of course not. He relies on her to tell him the truth. She knows this. Not that Rose wouldn't, of course.

'Yes. Clara, be my pal and tell me, am I a good man?' He wonders but the way he's phrased his question it's almost as though he's expecting a terrible answer and he's steeling himself for the response.

Instead Clara takes her time. She picks it apart. She doesn't know this man, no matter what Rose or Vastra or Jenny may state. He's different. He'd colder than the man she knew earlier. He lacks patience and restraint. But he's just as passionate as before. But he so cold. Would he do the right thing? Can she trust him? Yes of course. So why did she hesitate? He's look at her for an answer. And she can't give him one. Because she doesn't know. Is this the next part of the journey – they are to discover this the three of them?

'I don't know…' Clara finally answers and the Doctor is quiet as he mulls her answer to him.

What had he expected her to say? He doesn't know anymore. 'Me either.'

He finally replies and gets up to meet Rose who is working the controls on the console. Clara lingers, turning over her shoulder to watch them.

Rose takes a step out of the way while he rather shortly presses the controls. Her hand appears and covers his, forcing him to stop. They stare at one another, another one of their infamous mental conversations. She arches her eyebrow at him and Clara is surprised to see him relax, ever so slightly. The tension he carries is still visible, but it seems he's let something go. Or repressed it. Truly she wished she had a better answer for him. Time will tell, she supposes. Or it may help define him, mould him into the person he wishes to be, or is unsure of.

The TARDIS lurches and Clara is shaken from her morose thoughts. What a depressing way to start her date. Her date! Oh no, Danny! Oh, she had worked so hard to convince him to go with her, her finest flirting for naught. Clara jumps to her feet and rushes to the console just in time to see the Doctor removing his arm from around Rose. He frowns at her hastiness.

'Hey, no offence, but I've got plans. Can you take me back, please?' Clara wonders and Rose smirks at her. Damn, has she already figured it out? Women just know, don't they? One stupid grin plastered on her face and she's just announced to the world she's in love.

The Doctor either chooses to ignore her desperate tone or doesn't comment on it, but he gives her a pleading look in her eyes which he seems to disregard.

'But I need you too.' He replies and Clara grapples with the decision of what to do. He has Rose, why does he need her there too? He's staring at her and her resolve wavers. She wants to believe that he'll drop her off at the right time so she can meet with Danny, at the same time her interest is wondering where they're going. And why. What's gotten them both so spooked. Whether they want to admit it there is something heavy that lingers in the air. It isn't the question of who he is. It's something else.

Clara closes her eyes and nods her head, mostly to convince herself. 'Right. Where are we going?'

'Into darkness,' The Doctor responds and Clara frowns. 'Sorry, I was trying to build up the moment. Rose and I stumbled upon the most interesting thing earlier.'

'Besides the Spiritualist incident? What else could you possibly find?' Clara wonders, mostly to herself.

'That's what I mean. You can always find something. You save someone's life and they point a gun at you, the next thing you know you're being asked-…'

'Rather volun-told.' Rose interjects and the Doctor nods his head.

'Yes, that odd combination of words. We're told we're helping a good Dalek.' The Doctor finishes and Clara stares at him stunned, leaving the coffee cup she's just raised to her lips there as she digests his words.

'I'm sorry, a good Dalek?' She repeats and the Doctor nods his head, his eyes show his reservations about that statement. Okay, so he's curious but also apprehensive. However, his next comment to her leaves her rather stunned. It's that or the fact she's just burnt her tongue on the coffee.

'There's no such thing.' He answers assuredly. Rose gapes at him.

'Doctor, what the hell?'

Clara takes another thoughtful sip, ignoring the burning sensation on her tongue. 'That's a bit inflexible. Not like you,' She decides and then eyes Rose with a smirk. 'I'd almost say prejudiced.'

As the TARDIS rumbles to announce their landing, the Doctor sighs heavily and glances to Rose before settling his stare on Clara. 'Do I pay either of you? I should give you both a raise.'

Clara throws her hand into his arm as he passes by her towards the door. 'You're not my boss, you're one of my hobbies.'

The Doctor smirks at her and reaches back for Rose's hand. 'Let's go.' He all but drags Rose along with him as he leads them back through the corridors.

Clara studies the sterility of the ship, not equipped for battle, so why are there so many soldiers in uniform? She nearly inquires but figures the Doctor would only tell her to keep up or quit wasting his time. She stays silent, trotting to catch up to close the gap Rose and the Doctor have put between them. They walk like they're on a mission. Maybe they are.

There is a little group of people waiting by a door marked Lab 01, hushed voices surround her. What are they plotting. A stern looking man – which Clara assumes to be the leader – glances up to her, his tired eyes coupled with the lines etched into his face tell her that he's been at this, whatever this is, for a long time.

Next to the man a woman also acknowledges their presence, she's younger but there are cuts that litter her dark skin and face. She's been in some kind of accident or battle. That's a massive gun in her hands. So a battle. But what is this in her eyes? Grief? She's lost something near and dear to her. Although she does look pleasantly surprised when she catches sight of the Doctor and Rose.

'That was quick.' She remarks. The Doctor seemingly ignores her and turns over to Clara.

'This is gun girl,' The Doctor introduces the woman who frowns at the lack of proper pleasantries. 'She's got a gun, and she's a girl. That one there, he's a sort of a boss one.'

'Yes.' The man confirms and Clara wonders how many times he and the Doctor have clashed over egos.

'I think he's probably her uncle, but I may have made that up to pass the time while they were talking,' He admits and there is a small silence. The Doctor eyes everyone. He suddenly remembers. 'This is Clara, not my assistant. She's, er, some other word.'

'I'm his…carer.' Clara decides and the Doctor nods his head at her.

'Yeah, my carer,' The Doctor agrees and Rose shakes her head. 'She cares so I don't have to.' He stops abruptly as Rose throws her hand into his chest, eyeing him.

'Right. Well, now that these introductions are done, let's get moving.' Morgan informs them and leads them through the doors into the lab.

The Doctor carefully studies the molecular nanoscaler while he faintly hears the others yammering away. He is trying to think of an appropriate way to quell his own reservations about doing this little excursion. Clara's words also bother him. She just doesn't understand is all. She doesn't have the history with the Daleks like he does, or to a lesser extent, Rose. Clara doesn't understand the ironic nature of the Dalek's words. It is a creature bred for pure hatred of any other creature that exists in the universes. Daleks do not just…hate their own kind, it's not possible. At least…not that he's ever experienced. Prejudiced. Him?! Ha, unlikely. He's the least judgemental person in the universe, according to himself. Prejudice…what a laugh.

Then…why can't he go into this with a completely open mind? Part of him holds back. The defences are up; they have been since he set eyes on that thing in there. The worst part is that he can't entirely read Rose either. She's shut herself off completely. That isn't fair. They're supposed to be partners on things like this. Well, at least he has Clara with him. That's comfort enough.

The doors to the room where the Dalek is held slide open almost painfully slow. He feels the eyestalk on him before the Dalek is entirely revealed. The Doctor exchanges a look with Rose. She nods at him. He nearly reaches for her hand but stops himself, however he doesn't miss how Rose tenses when the Dalek eyes the little group before him.

Rose turns up to the Doctor. 'Do you think we can do this?'

He looks down to her. Her voice is soft, so is her touch. He hadn't realised she'd grabbed his hand. That's the thing with her…she can read him to incredibly well. He doesn't want to do this and she knows that there is something within him that makes him hesitate, that he looks at this and doesn't want to push forward, but does because of the curiosity. The mystery calls to him.

'A moral Dalek? Aren't you the least bit curious? Don't you want to find out what makes it tick?' The Doctor replies and Rose eyes him with a little smirk.

'Are you asking me or telling yourself?' Rose wonders and the Doctor returns her smirk. He's about to respond to her when the Dalek's voice rings out.

'Doctor.'

'Hello again.' He responds, looking over his shoulder to the eye stalk that studies the group. Rose can't help but notice that there is no hint of pleasantness in his voice. It is devoid of emotion. And so unlike him.

'Will you help me?' The Dalek questions, its raspy voice is almost pleading with him. In the only way a Dalek can. Though it comes off as cold and emotionless. It does get pity from Rose. As it had done the first time she met them. Creatures that had been shunned by its own kind. It's never fun to be alone.

Clara notices the Doctor has yet to respond to it. She doesn't like that. His own worst enemy is reaching out for help, this could be the start of something small, yes, but it may lead to something bigger. Maybe they could finally bridge the gap and end this feud that seems to follow the Doctor everywhere.

'Well, Doctor, will you?' Clara pries when he has yet to issue a response. He looks down to Clara who is crossing her arms and glaring at him, intentional or not, he isn't sure. Is she always like this? She pesters him until she gets what she wants, doesn't she? Rose, though, not her. She expects, no demands he do the right thing without uttering a word. Great. He's getting it from all sides.

He meets Rose's gaze and her unreadable expression tells him nothing but he can gather what she's thinking. He puts aside his discomfort. 'A Dalek so damaged, it's turned good. Morality as malfunction? How do I resist?'

'Are you being spurious?' Rose wonders and the Doctor looks over to her. Somehow what he's said and her comment back to him makes her smirk. The Dalek interrupts him as he begins to answer Rose.

'Daleks must die. Daleks must die.' It drones on and Rose isn't inspired to believe those words. Paint her as a pessimist or cautious optimist. No, somethings change only to quickly change back.

Clara continues to watch this Dalek with candid fascination. She turns up to the Doctor. 'So, what do we do with a moral Dalek, then?'

'We get into its head.' The Doctor replies and Clara shrugs at his simply complex answer.

'Mmm, how do you get into a Dalek's head?' She muses and then catches Rose shaking her head as a response.

'No, no. Literally.' Rose replies and Clara widens her eyes. Oh no…no, no. That's not good. Oh no, what has she signed up for. She has a date…what if they run a bit late? Oh but then her curiosity is peaked by the goodness in this Dalek. Can they sway him to the side of good?

'Well, let's get this started, shall we?' Morgan states loudly and motions them over to the moleculon nanoscaler. Rose has noticed that the Doctor is still enamoured with the device so she takes it upon herself to be the one to listen to the safety talk. Who knows it may just come in handy. Clara comes up beside Rose and she looks over to her.

'What do you think we'll find when we're in there?' Clara wonders. Rose is quiet, debating what they just may find. Honestly she doesn't know. Something simple or something more complex.

'I think the outcome of this situation won't be what we want it to be.' Rose finally answers and Clara frowns.

'Debbie Downer.'

Rose laughs. 'Sorry. My mind goes right for the bad to plan for it.'

'Ladies!' Journey calls to them and they direct their attention back to Journey. 'Now, as I was saying. These are nanocontrollers. Once we're miniaturised, they take over the molecular compression. When the mission's over, hit the button.' Journey finishes explaining, handing one to Rose as she slips it on, Journey puts the bracelet on Clara's wrist. 'Are you sure you both understand.'

Rose flings Journey a look and doesn't answer her, so Journey directs her attention to Clara who frowns. She can see why Rose takes offence to this. She doesn't, though she also doesn't appreciate the implication that she wouldn't. It's simple instructions. She gives those all day…not that anyone pays attention to them.

'Yes, I understand. I mean, why wouldn't I?' Clara replies impatiently and Journey eyes her.

'Because this is a dangerous mission, and unlike your friends, you look like a school teacher.' Journey tells her and Clara feels her mouth drop open from her correct assumptions.

'I am a school teacher,' Clara responds haughtily. 'Still didn't catch your name.'

'Journey Blue.'

'Blue?' Clara repeats and finds herself smiling at the quirkiness of colours suddenly being affixed to people as surnames. What are the chances?

'Blue, yes. Problem?'

'No!' Clara hastily gathers her thoughts. 'Er, I just met a soldier called Pink.'

Journey's harsh features soften. 'Lucky fella.'

'Lucky?' Clara repeats and notices that Rose is smiling devilishly at her. Women always know! How?

'From the way you smile.'

Clara feels her cheeks redden and attempts to divert the conversation away from her personal life. Getting a wee bit close for comfort, she already knows Rose is going want to hear all about it. Well, there's nothing to tell. Nothing's happened. Yet. 'So, er who makes you smile or is nobody up to the job?'

Journey eyes her. She appreciates that it was a mere shift in focus, to move the spotlight however those wounds are too fresh and raw. 'My brother. But he burned to death a couple of hours ago, so he's really letting me down today. Excuse me.'

Clara stares stunned. She feels horrible. How could have goofed like that? Why hadn't anyone said anything? Rose walks towards her and shakes her head. What does that mean?

'You couldn't have known.' Rose tells her. Clara doesn't feel comforted by that. She shakes her head. Rose can see that what she's said doesn't do anything.

'Not the point. She just lost family and there I was trying to be smart.' Clara reminds her and Rose can see her point. She is about to attempt another angle when the Doctor joins them and notices something rather alarming.

'Hang on, hang on,' The Doctor interjects and points to two more soldiers Rose hadn't noticed joined them. They are in full tactical gear. Tag alongs. Why? 'What are those ones for? I don't need armed babysitters.'

The woman in the gear doesn't appreciate the comment. 'We are not babysitters!' She fires back and the Doctor immediately looks relieved.

'We're here to shoot you dead if you turn out to be a Dalek spy.' The man adds and Rose gapes at them. Clara clears her throat at the admission.

'You know I've been called a lot of things over the years. Commie spy, Luthlow spy, Royalist spy, Russian spy, the list goes on – but I don't know whether to be insulted at that comment or not.' Rose folds her arms and tilts her head. Both the new soldiers avert their gaze. Did she just win that ego battle?

'Not worth it, Rose,' The Doctor tells her. 'Didn't you hear them? They're not baby sitters, that's relief enough. Luthlow spy? How did you get mixed up in that tense situation?'

'Long story, maybe I'll tell you some time.' Rose winks as she puts on the bracelet Journey had passed to her on her way to the front of the group on the Doctor's wrist. Journey whistles to gather the attention at a focal point. Everyone turns back to her and she clears her throat.

'Okay, listen up. Now, remember, do not hold your breath when the nanoscaler engages. You'll feel like you want to, but you must keep breathing normally during the miniaturisation process.'

Clara looks up to the Doctor, how can holding your breath be bad? 'Why?'

The Doctor lowers his voice. 'Ever microwaved a lasagne without pricking the film on top?'

She nods her head. 'Sure. Loads of times. It explodes.'

The Doctor straightens up as she realised the gravity of her words and her eyes gradually widen. 'Yes. Don't be lasagne.'

'Fun analogy. So accurate.' Rose comments and Clara doesn't miss the grin on her face. Is she truly enjoying this? How does she manage the stress from one job to the next? She makes it look easy. Then again she's had a lot of practice, Clara's decided.

Everyone steps into a small chamber and the doors shut. From the outside Morgan makes his way to the controls and pushes a few buttons and the control panel springs to life. After a few preliminary inspections all levels appear normal and he takes a quick look at Journey. He hopes this mission goes well, they're due for a little streak of luck. He wants her to come back safe and in one piece. He's lost so many people in just the last few weeks, but to lose Journey would devastate him. If he has to triple check things every second he will do that, to make sure she gets home.

'All right you lot, nanoscaler engaging in five, four, three, two…nanoscaler engaging now.'

Above their heads in the chamber a dull computer voice rings out, _Nanoscaling in progress._

All they can see is a crossbeam that passes back and forth over the camber until the jostling being which they assume means the shrinking is in progress. Rose suddenly understands what Journey meant about maintaining a steady breath. The pressure above them does make her want to hold her air in until the oppressive mass passes them however her mind wanders to a microwave with burnt on sauce and bits of pasta noodles caked onto the sides. Huh. Boom. Morbid.

 _Nanoscaling complete._

Rose looks up. In all her mind wanderings she didn't notice that they managed to finish being shrunk. Look at that, everyone's intact. That's a bit of a relief.

' _Nanoscaling successful. Everyone okay in there?_ ' Morgan's voice echoes above them and they see an enormous pair of tweezers heading towards them. The chamber shakes as they are picked up, they know it's as carefully as possible…

'We made it. Nobody popped.' Journey informs Morgan relieved and she double checks all the passengers once again. She's grinning and closes her eyes. Good luck stroke one. One of three? Only one way to find out.

Clara watches the world in front of the little chambers' glass with amazement at the distorted view before her. It's incredible, she's amazed. The detail in people's clothing – the fibres she can see; how large the room is. Everything.

She turns over to the Doctor. 'Whoa. Ha. I can't believe this.'

'No, neither can I.' The Doctor states seriously and watches as the chamber is carefully injected into the Dalek's eyestalk. The blue washes over them, not a calming blue no, a harsh one. A cold one. Rose shifts her gaze to the Doctor however he doesn't acknowledge her gaze and she can't decipher his deadpan look. When he holds his hand out to the surface, it quivers. It nearly makes Rose doubt this entire ordeal. What have they signed up for?

' _We'll be following you all the way, Rescue One. Good luck to all of you.'_ Morgan states dryly and the Doctor is the first to test their limits as his arm begins to distort when he begins to reach into the blue 'eye' so to speak of the end of the stalk.

Rose is next and she feels as though she's passed through a waterfall as she stands next to the Doctor and they study their surroundings. Clara and Journey are next while the two armed soldiers bring up the rear. Their guns are tight to their chests as their skilled eyes carefully roam around…wherever they are in the Dalek.

Rose turns up to the Doctor and nudges him gently. 'Ever thought you'd be here?'

'Not in my lifetimes.'

'You look extremely tense.' She observes and the Doctor stares at her incredulously.

'You're not?'

'I try not to think about it.' Rose admits and he smiles lightly at her.

'Integration complete. Dalek levels steady.' The robotic voice announces. Clara rubs her arms and studies their new surroundings. Bland and cold. Just like a Dalek. Pure on the inside as the outside. Devoid of anything but steel.

'That was weird.' Clara declares and the Doctor gives her a sideways glance. He wants to laugh at her naivety. However, he restrains himself as he catches Rose taking a few tentative steps forward, ascertaining the situation.

'You've seen nothing yet.' The Doctor promises her and Clara's eye catches the twinkling lights above them. She becomes mesmerised by them. The Doctor notices that they all have as well. Not Rose…no, she's uncomfortable. So is he. Every single voice in his head is telling him to run. Get out. Why are you helping the enemy? He can't answer that. All because a Dalek asked? Is it that easy, they can just wipe out millennia of conflict because of a broken plea? What was he thinking?

'Doctor?' Clara's meek voice shakes him from his thoughts. Rose has re-joined them. 'What are all those lights?'

He glances up. 'Visual impulses travelling towards the brain.'

Clara smiles. 'Beautiful.'

'Welcome to the most dangerous place in the universe.' The Doctor comments and Rose tilts her head.

'And yet…there are similarities – biologic – in nature. We are the same in some respects.' Rose replies and doesn't miss the eyes of the entire group on her. She stands by that comment.

The Doctor feels himself glaring at Rose for her comment. Which of course she flings right back at him. 'There isn't enough time in the world to talk about how wrong you are.'

Rose squares herself against him. 'There is not enough time in the world to tell you how remarkably close minded you're being. Don't talk to me like that.' Rose adds and they glare at one another more before Journey clears her throat.

Journey rolls her eyes, surprised she finds herself agreeing with the Doctor. 'If you two are done arguing, let's go. We have a mission to complete.'

Silently they all fall into line behind Journey. She leads them through the eye stalk of the Dalek, the two soldiers who quietly introduce themselves as Gretchen and Ross bring up the rear. Rose feels the constant need to check over her shoulder to make sure nothing is sneaking up behind them. These people are tense, she can sense it. A quick trigger finger, ask question after shooting type deal. These people don't respect the prowess of a Dalek. And now that they're inside – internally – who's to say that they won't use this opportunity to do something…sinister? That what's makes her uneasy. Amongst other things of course.

They emerge from the corridor like eyestalk into a large circular, open area. Rose can only assume that this is some kind of cranial area. It's incredibly vast, it's a long way up and a long way down. She takes a step back, feeling her slight fear of heights get triggered. Clara takes her place with wide eyes as she absorbs all of the depth around her. She finds herself smiling. She doesn't know why. Is it because she'll never experience this again or the fact that the Dalek is essentially harmless to them at this moment. That if they wanted to, they could destroy it?

'Oh, my god…' Clara breathes when she looks down from the ledge. They can literally see the red tentacle blob of the Dalek that is the only true organic part left. A vast among of cables continually twist themselves around down into it.

The Doctor motions to the blob. 'Behold, the belly of the beast.'

'It's amazing.' Clara remarks and Rose pushes his helmet up above his eyes.

'It's huge…' He remarks and Gretchen rolls her eyes at him.

'No, Ross, we're tiny.' Gretchen corrects and he clears his throat in acknowledgement. He looks back up to the Dalek. Clara points to it as well and the Doctor follows her arm.

'So how big is it, that living part, compared to you and me, right now?' Clara wonders and the Doctor direct her gaze to the cables.

'Do you see all those cables?' The Doctor wonders and Clara nods her head.

'Yeah.'

'They're not all cables.' He tells her and Clara widens her eyes. Ross turns over his shoulder, convinced he saw something pass behind them. It makes him a little bit nervous. He does a headcount. Everyone is here…so what was it that moved when they weren't looking? What else is…lurking in here.

'Does it…know we're here?' He wonders and Journey glances over to him and nods her head, though not entirely sure herself. Still, this is her mission and she will get everyone out alive. She can do this.

'It's what invited us in.' Journey replies and Ross nods his head.

The Doctor notices that Rose has been a little silent in this ordeal. He motions her over for help when he begins to study the banks of vertical lights around the inside of the part of the ledge. She seems a little pale. Maybe it's just the lighting.

'Are you going to give me the silent treatment this whole messy adventure?' He wonders and pretends to drag out his observation so she'll talk to him. Rose presses her hand to her head and shakes her head.

'Yes, I mean no. No,' Rose pauses and the Doctor turns to face her fully, blocking everyone else's view of her. 'This Dalek. Did you happen to notice that it of the same variety that you and I faced years ago?'

'Yes, I did notice that.' How can he not? Those memories still come to him when he least expects them to. Upon setting eyes on that Dalek, this was one of those times. It's hard to think of Rose in that sense. But he admires her no less. He was immensely proud of her determination, however so scared that he'd lose her. And to know that his removal of Bad Wolf was in a sense a failure…irks him. She's not truly free of her other. What consequences will it hold in the future? Only Bad Wolf knows that.

Rose listens to the eeriness that makes her wonder if she's hearing voices or the white noise is deafening. 'I don't know if I'm hearing voices…but…' She trails off and the Doctor frowns. 'Never mind. It's in my head.' She states. He can tell it's mostly to convince herself.

'What are you hearing?' He prods and Rose stares at the ground while frowning before lifting her head up.

'Memories,' Rose tells him firmly in denial. What's stirring within her? 'It's…only memories. Now…I'm sorry. Shall we?'

He hates that she wishes to drop the subject but agrees that they can't stand around waiting, no more hesitation. Things must get done, so he nods his head silently pointing to vertical lights. 'Now, this is the cortex vault, a supplementary electronic brain. Memory banks, but more than that. This is what keeps the Dalek pure.'

Gretchen walks a bit closer and studies the lights. Frowning she turns to the Doctor since his explanation makes no sense. 'How are Daleks pure?'

'Daleks are born hating. This right here. This aids in that hatred. It eradicates goodness.' Rose replies and the Doctor points to the cortex.

'This is what stokes the fire, extinguishes even the tiniest glimmer of kindness or compassion. Imagine the worst possible thing in the universe, then don't bother, because you're looking at it right now. This is evil refined as engineering.' He tells them and Gretchen swallows an uncomfortable lump in her throat. As each second passes, she wonders what she's signed up for.

' _Doctor…?'_ A gravelly voice erupts above them.

'Oh, hello, Rusty. You don't mind if I call you Rusty?' The Doctor pauses briefly not truly waiting for a response before moving on. 'We're going to need to come down there with you. Medical examination, and all that.'

Gretchen frowns and motions below them. 'What, with those tentacles and things?'

Journey turns to the Doctor. She's so apprehensive about this. Getting close is one thing, but how far do they have to go in order to get closer? She wants to keep everyone safe by staying at a safer distance. 'How close do we have to get?'

The Doctor smiles a bit. 'Well, you know, we're never going insert a thermometer from up here.'

Rose rolls her eyes and Journey nods at Ross. He immediately fires a harpoon into the ledge and a loud groan erupts above their heads. Rose gasps.

'No! Stop it, you moron! Stop and bloody well think about what you've done!' Rose shouts at him, Ross gapes at her, and just as she finishes lambasting him another harpoon drives itself into the ledge. She gasps.

The Doctor turns to Journey who doesn't understand the ramifications of her actions. 'No, no, no no! Stop, stop! You idiot!' The Doctor yells at her. Journey gawks at him in confusion.

Journey shrugs her shoulders at him, not getting his or the girl's sudden rage. 'We need a way down. The only way.'

The Doctor motions around them. 'This is a Dalek, not a machine. It's a perfect analogue of a living being, and you just hurt it. So what's going to happen now?' The Doctor goads and Journey frowns at him, picking apart his words. What's the big deal? It asked for them to come in here, some things may happen, it may get bruised in the process. Things will be fine.

'Oh, god.' Clara realises what the Doctor meant. She swallows nervously and begins to look around for the unseen culprit that she knows is heading towards them.

'Everyone, be on guard. They're coming.' Rose warns and Gretchen stares at her, unsure of what they're facing. Everything looks normal. So why is there dread building within her?

'What? What is it?' Gretchen questions desperately and finds herself steadying her own breathing as the seconds tick by and no one provides an answer.

Clara stares at her with panic in her eyes. 'Antibodies?' She wonders and watches Rose and the Doctor nod their heads.

'Dalek antibodies.' He corrects, and Clara instantly foresees more doom coming their way with that correction.

Rose isn't sure what will help them. These antibodies can't be shot at; they'd all be dead before anyone pulls a trigger. So they have to escape. But where? Where's the safest place for them to hide so that they won't be traced? The antibodies will find them and they won't be satisfied till the threat's been eradicated.

Something fast approaches them. They can hear it drawing closer, the air becomes disturbed. Abruptly little spherical objects fly into their view. The air becomes thick with tension. They've been found. Now what? Ross has his gun raised to them, which promptly tells the antibodies that he is a threat. However, nothing happens, though it is quite obvious that those antibodies are assessing the situation. Ross is their only target at the moment. Journey doesn't like that. She lowers her weapon and before she can move, the Doctor grips her arm and shakes his head.

'Nobody move,' The Doctor instructs and Clara feels her heart rate quicken. She can't stop watching the spheres. Journey looks at him helpless, begging for an answer. 'Any attempt to help him, or attack those things, they will identify you as a secondary source of infection. Stay still!' He orders Gretchen who had made a small effort to help get Ross out of harm's way.

Ross slowly lowers his gun which prompts the antibodies to open, revealing a massive piercing blue eye. Seeing Ross now weak, the antibodies swarm him – utterly surrounding him in seconds. Clara turns desperately to the Doctor.

'But the Dalek wants us in here. Why is it attacking?'

'Can you control your antibodies?' He questions rhetorically. Clara relents, seeing his point. Journey's eyes dart from the antibodies to Ross to the Doctor, she grows angry that no one is helping him. Ross looks to be growing more scared by the minute. Who can blame him.

'Ross, stay calm. We're going to get you out of this.' Journey tells him firmly, trying so desperately to believe her own words. Clara knows there will be no good outcome of this. It's plainly obvious. She wants to believe it will be okay, so she turns to Rose.

'Can we save him, Rose?' Clara widens her eyes when Rose closes hers. The Doctor has the same look in his eyes. Why have they just sentenced a man to his death – what gave them that right?

'Ross, swallow that.' The Doctor calls to him and lobs something small that no one else can see. Ross catches it and studies it carefully. He frowns and looks up to the Doctor.

'What is it?'

'Trust me.' The Doctor tells him and Ross blindly swallows whatever it was that the Doctor gave him. Ross frowns. Nothing's happened. Not that he _knows_ what will happen, maybe it takes a while to go into effect. He tries to keep calm. But it isn't working. Those antibodies are swarming him, circling him…waiting for the right moment to strike.

Everyone collective holds their breath, unsure of what the Doctor passed to Ross however they choose to believe it will save him. They believe that right up until the moment those antibodies fire a bright beam right at him. It engulfs him and he burns brighter until there is nothing left. He has been disintegrated.

'Ross!' Journey screams and vainly looks at the seared marks on the floor of where he stood. His boot soles have been etched into the ground.

'What the hell is it doing?!' Clara gasps as the antibodies slowly begin to absorb the remains of Ross, without much haste as though to taunt them of the latest meal. Clara covers her mouth to stop from retching.

'The hoovering.' The Doctor explains and Rose looks away just as the blue eye turns an almost satisfied red, though the antibodies clearly know that there are more of them here. Question is, if they stop from any more destruction, will the antibodies allow them to pass?

Rose finds herself smiling as the antibody begins to fly away. How…relieving. The Doctor raises the sonic and leans forward. She hopes that he isn't trying to antagonise it. No he seems to be trying to lock onto something.

'What are you trying to-…' Rose begins but he immediately cuts her off as he's made a discovery.

'Gotcha!'

Clara folds her arms briefly before her irritation sets in and she motions to the spot where Ross once stood. 'What did you give him?'

The Doctor turns to her and doesn't miss her demanding tone. 'Oh, just a spare power cell, but I can track the radiation signature. I need to know where they dump the bodies.' He informs them. Clara finds her mouth drop open at the casualness of his answer to them. When did he get so…callous?

'How far are we from the…disposal…er, can we make it without being spotted?' Rose questions and studies their surroundings to see if more of those antibodies are on their way. She doesn't want to linger for any length of time.

Journey is unable to move past the fact that she was under the impression that Ross would be saved. The more she replays that scene in her head the angrier she becomes. How dare that man make phony promises to Ross, to lull him into a false sense of security. That death was painful no doubt. She balls her fists.

'I thought you were saving him.' Journey is unable to keep her voice from rising as she finishes up her sentence. The Doctor turns over to her and shakes his head.

'He was dead already. I was saving us,' The Doctor informs her coldly and Journey smiles at her own frustration. If she doesn't smile she will yell. 'Follow me and run.'

Clara is stunned when no makes an effort to move. 'Run!' She shouts and her desperate tone springs the others into action.

They take off running down the ledge with the antibodies not far behind them, their distance is closing in fast. Rose looks over her shoulder and blinks away the voices she's hearing. Not voices, more like whispers. Will it always be like this when she encounters Daleks? She turns her attention forward and gasps, stopping abruptly, she didn't realise that the rest of the group has gathered around the Doctor who is pointing to a hold in the ledge.

'They've dumped him in here. Organic refuse disposal. We need to get in there.'

Clara's mind is still stuck on the organic disposal part of the Doctor's sentence. She feels herself getting goosebumps. Dead things are in there. She feels a little sick. 'Why…?'

As Gretchen and Journey begin to shoot at the antibodies, the Doctor motions to them casually. 'Those antibodies won't give up until we're inside there. I'd rather go in alive than dead.'

Journey turns over her should briefly before she squeezes off another round of shots. 'You don't know where it goes.'

The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'Yes I do.'

Rose stands beside Journey and she holds Journey's angry gaze, her eyes are glassy and red. She's seen so much loss today, Rose feels for her. 'Trust him. We need to get in there. Now.'

'Trust him?! Like Ross did?! He sentenced Ross to his death because Ross trusted him.' Journey reminds her and Rose steps in front of the gun. Journey attempts to aim around Rose but finds herself unable to.

'There was nothing we could do. But right now, we need to escape to fight another day. So move it.' Rose points to the hole. Clara jumps into it and Journey reluctantly lowers her gun and retreats, pausing at the hole before she inhales and jumps through it. Rose follows her but notices that Gretchen is staying behind.

'Gretchen! Now!' The Doctor shouts and Rose pauses by his side. Gretchen looks over to them and shakes her head.

'I can hold them off!' She fires another round and the Doctor shouts back to her.

'No, you can't!' He even attempts to use the sonic on the antibodies but it has no effect on them. Rose motions for her to join them. 'Pull back. Down. Jump, everyone, jump!'

Gretchen nods and hurries to the hole, climbing through and descending out of view. 'You're next, Ms Tyler!'

Rose looks down the hole and back up to him. 'You're sure about this?'

'I'm never sure, only faintly, somewhat sure.' The Doctor replies and Rose smirks at him. She takes his hand and they disappear down the hole together. The Doctor enjoys it more than Rose does. There is a faint light that comes up quick. She braces herself for what comes next.

* * *

They drop into a thick, liquid gunk. It's got a green tint to it and is sticky. Rose gasps for air and wipes it from her face, flinging the goo from her hands. It coats the opposite wall. Clara tumbles down after her and rises from the liquid with a disgusted sound. Rose gets eyes on the Doctor and then Journey and her friend. Her mind also wanders to that one Star Wars movie, episode four – maybe. She smiles to herself. At least the walls won't close in. She sobers up. She thinks the walls won't close in on them.

Clara flails her hands a bit and the gunk is deposited over the walls. She crinkles her nose. 'Ugh, what is this stuff?'

The Doctor turns over his shoulder and shrugs absently. 'People. The Daleks need protein. Occasionally, they harvest from their victims. This is a feeding tube.'

Rose makes a disgusted face and shivers. 'Delightful.'

Journey looks around the gunk that engulfs them. She turns to the Doctor. 'Is Ross here?' She is hopeful that perhaps, some part of him survived, or is viable that she can take back to Aristotle and give him a proper burial.

'Yeah. Top layer, if you want to say a few words.' He replies absently, looking for a way out and Rose closes her eyes and shakes her head.

'Doctor, there's a more -…' Rose begins but widens her eyes when Journey angrily shoves him against the wall and begins to yell in his face. She wades through the gunk to get towards them.

'A man has just died. You will not talk like that!' She shouts at the Doctor and Rose pushes her way between them, shoving Journey back, however she keeps her hand on the Doctor's chest just in case. Rose and Journey furiously hold one another stares and Clara finds herself holding her breath as she watches the debate within Journey's head to raise her weapon, and Rose's tense posture, prepping for a potential fight.

'Back the hell off!'

'Did you hear what he just _said_?! He has no remorse! He sentenced that man to his death!' Journey yells and Rose takes a few steps closer. The Doctor reaches for her arm however Rose shakes him off. He doesn't need her to defend him. But sometimes…she can speak more eloquently than he can, she can relate to these soldiers. He doesn't want to.

'You know as well as I do that he was doomed the moment those things surrounded him. Accept it. In battle, you lose people. You lose friends. I know, I get it. But I promise you; there will be a time to mourn him. But it will _not_ be now, do you hear me? Focus on the mission at hand. Once it's completed and you are safe, then and only then can you mourn for the loss of your comrade and friend.' Rose tells her and Journey continues to glare defiantly at Rose and then the Doctor. Eventually Rose can see the anger subside and Journey exhales. She nods her head as logic swings into her favour again.

'You're right. You speak from experience.' Journey sighs. And Rose begins to follow the Doctor towards the exit but she pauses and turns over her shoulder.

'I have. I do. I got used to it. A lot of people have died that I was once proud to consider my friends. It happens.'

The Doctor peers around Rose and points to the gunk they still wade in. 'You know why that's good?'

Journey feels the rage begin to boil but she heeds Rose's advice and gains quick control of it. 'There is nothing good about that.' She seethes and Rose squares her body and folds her arms, just in case Journey goes to lunge at the Doctor.

'Nothing is alive in here, so logically this is the weakest spot in the Dalek's internal security. Nobody guards the dead. Mortuaries and larders, always the easiest to break out of. Oh, I've lived a life. Tell Uncle Stupid that we're in,' The Doctor pauses and points excitedly at something. 'Ah ha! A bolt hole.' The Doctor begins to unscrew the large bolt with the sonic.

Rose hops over the lip in the gunk and Journey, her friend and Clara watch them continue to work together. Sensing that Journey is still immensely annoyed Clara turns to her and offers an apologetic smile.

'He'll get us out of here. The difficult part is not killing him before he can.' Clara explains and the Doctor grins. He motions them over.

'Bolt hole. Actually, a hole for a bolt. Does nobody get that?' He wonders and Rose shoves him lightly.

'Oh, we get it. Go on.' Rose shakes her head and the Doctor climbs through the hole. Rose follows. Clara and the others begin to make their way over to them.

'Also, there's the puns.' Clara sighs.

'Watch it, decontamination tubes are hot.' The Doctor's voice echoes back to them. Journey closes her eyes and looks over her shoulder to the gunk once she's cleared it and silently apologises to Ross for her failure to keep him safe. She takes a vow to not lose anyone else. She gets down to her hands and knees and begins to crawl after the group.

Journey reaches for her communication device to rely the news about Ross to Morgan. She inhales deeply and presses the button. 'Rescue One of Mission Control.'

' _This Blue, Rescue One. Report.'_ Hearing Morgan's voice is slightly comforting to her.

'We've lost Ross. Some kind of internal defence mechanism.' The words get stuck in her throat and she swallows a lump.

' _What kind of defence mechanism?'_ Morgan wonders and Journey glances around the decontamination tube. _'That thing knows you're in there to help it.'_ Morgan reminds her and Journey absently nods her head. The tube seems to her as though it's getting narrower.

'Yeah, well, who knows? It's a Dalek. We're going to continue the mission.' Journey advises and she lifts her gaze from directly in front of her so she can attempt to see the Doctor as his voice calls out to them.

'Are you all all right back there? It's a bit narrow, isn't it?' He wonders rhetorically and Clara feels her expression go neutral.

'Any remarks about my hips will not be appreciated.' Clara informs him and Rose can't help but smile at Clara's comment. However, it seems to go over the Doctor's head. He meant to be nice, Rose is sure, only it didn't come across that way.

'Ach, your hips are fine. You're built like a man.' He assures her and Rose groans.

'Thanks.' Clara's sotto response nearly makes him question what he said.

'I know you meant well, but that's not a compliment.' Rose chides and the Doctor frowns.

'It _is_ a compliment. Women don't like being told they have big hips, isn't that right? Or…do you? I'm afraid I'm mixed up now. You're sending mixed signals.' The Doctor accuses her and Rose sighs.

'No, no more. Forget it. Just…yeah, never mind. Sorry, Clara.'

'You tried.' Comes Clara's sullen response.

'You two are completely vexing.' The Doctor tells them as he slowly climbs out of the decontamination tube and into Rusty's power unit. He holds his hand out for Clara and she takes it as he helps her down from the tube.

When Rose emerges, he holds her hand tighter than he had Clara's and she smiles at him. She is rather pale to him again he chalks it up to the poor lighting and badly cast shadows.

'Thanks.' Rose whispers and attempts to get her bearings in this new room.

As Gretchen emerges the Doctor fixates on a noise that seemed to reveal itself the moment Gretchen placed her feet on the ground. He points to her.

'What's that noise? Are you wearing a Geiger counter?'

Gretchen nods and reveals the device. 'Standard battle equipment. That's just low level radiation.'

Rose notices that in this room there are large printed circuit boards here. Low level radiation. Low level means somewhere there are higher counts. What's around to protect them from it?

'Doctor, why is it stronger here?' Rose wonders and the Doctor already has his hand out for the Geiger counter. Gretchen looks down to the device and frowns.

'There has to be a logical reason, gimme.' He insists and Gretchen hands over the device. Journey has been lingering off to the side allowing Morgan to hear part of their conversation.

' _Was that him? How's he working out?'_ Morgan questions and Journey is silent while she debates her answer. He got a man killed, lied to him before he died and is incredibly callous in his comments about the situation.

'Hard to say. He's-…' Journey pauses as she watches the Doctor sweep the circuit boards with the Geiger counter. Rose stands beside him and the lock eyes when they realise what the issue is.

'Is it really that simple?' She questions and the Doctor shrugs a bit.

'Aren't we about due?' He turns over his shoulder when Rose also absently shrugs her shoulders at him. 'I know what's wrong with Rusty.'

Clara smiles tightly. 'Okay, that's good. Is that good?' She adds when she notices that neither the Doctor or Rose are elated with his discovery. No instead they keep exchanging nervous glances. 'Tell me why this isn't good.'

'Well, you know how I said this was the most dangerous place in the universe?' The Doctor answers her and Clara frowns.

'Yes…'

'Well, I was wrong. It's way more dangerous than that.' He turns to Rose to make sure she won't make a comment about him being wrong. It does happen. On occasion. Rarely. Sometimes.

Journey becomes uneasy at the Doctor's comment and studies their surroundings once more. Something is making her uneasy. She doesn't know what it is. 'Colonel, we have radiation indicators red-lining in here. Could be that the Dalek is more badly damaged than we thought.'

But no, it isn't the radiation that is worrying her. At least it isn't taking the forefront. Morgan's voice echoes in her ear.

' _Copy that.'_

The Doctor turns to the group and motions around him. 'Old Rusty here is suffering from a trionic radiation leak. It's poisoning the Dalek and us. Just as well we're here.'

'Really? Perhaps we should get out while we can. Why should we trust a Dalek? Why would it change.' Journey wonders bitterly and nods to Gretchen. It's time to go. They tried and failed. What more could they do? And deep within…a part of her doesn't care. Which she's just communicated with them. And the Dalek. She needs a damn good reason to continue to risk her life for the life of one sick Dalek.

The Doctor notices her hesitation and honestly he couldn't blame her. She's being poisoned by radiation and for what? Journey's right. They need a reason. What converted a Dalek to turn on its own kind? What did it see? What did it experience?

'Rusty? Help us help you. You say you've changed, but how? Tell us, Rusty.' Rose implores and there is silence. She doesn't think they'll get an answer but after what seems like eternity, Rusty answers her.

' _I saw…beauty.'_

The Doctor and Rose gape at each other. He blinks a few times. Struggling to comprehend how a Dalek would understand the concept of beauty. He's stunned to hear that word is even in its vocabulary.

'You saw what?'

' _In the silence and the cold, I saw worlds burning._ ' Rusty explains and Rose sighs in defeat. She hugs the Doctor's arm to her chest and rests her head on his shoulder. They allow the defeat to wash over them. Rose turns up to him.

'Beauty is different to everyone.' She whispers and the Doctor shakes his head.

'I really thought we had something here.' He keeps his voice low and she gives him a sad smile that reflects in her eyes.

'I'm sorry.'

'Rusty, that's not beauty. That's destruction.' The Doctor explains and there is another pause. Rusty answers them again.

' _I saw…more.'_ He says simply. Their curiosity is renewed. They wait in anticipation but Rusty falls silent.

'What? What did you see?' The Doctor pries and Rose finds herself holding her breath. The others in the room are just as curious to know what possibilities are out there for a Dalek questioning his identity. This could be the tipping point.

' _The birth of a star.'_ Rusty announces and the Doctor shakes his head at Rose's enthusiasm. She frowns. How is that not good? She wonders silently at him. He is failed to be impressed.

'Stars are born every day,' The Doctor explains and Rose understands his points. Again she becomes defeated. Though it wasn't an angle she had considered at first. 'You've seen a million stars born. So what?'

' _Daleks have destroyed a million stars._ ' Rusty counters and the Doctor nods his head in agreement.

'Oh, millions and millions. Trust me, I keep count.'

' _And yet, new stars are born.'_ Rusty reminds him and the Doctor smiles slightly.

'Every time.'

' _Resistance is futile.'_ Rusty declares and everyone exchanges nervous looks. Journey is about to warn her crew that the Dalek has double crossed them when the Doctor holds out his hand to her and she pauses.

'Resistance to what?' He wonders and Journey holds her breath, her finger is on the button. All she has to do is warn them. Given the Dalek's weakened state, it'd be easily destroyed. Whether or not they're inside still, at least those on the ship would be safe. It's a sacrifice that she'd make without hesitation.

' _Life returns. Life prevails. Resistance is futile.'_ Rusty announces and the Doctor feels a small spark of hope renewed within him. He glances down to Rose who seems to have a reserved expression on her face. As though she wants to believe it…but she's stuck in her old ways. Deception can be strong within her and others.

'Is it that easy?' She wonders softly and he puts his arm around her shoulders and attempts once more to move past his own prejudices.

'I hope it is,' He answers and rubs his hands together. 'So you saw a star being born, and you learned something. Oh, Dalek, do not be lying to me. Come on.' The Doctor takes Rose's hand and in a flourish turns her around and they begin to dash towards another room. The others follow him quickly, not wanting to be left behind in this cold and foreign object. Couple with the fact that those antibodies could show up at any moment, best they stick close to one another.

'Heading for the Trionic power cells, Colonel.' Journey informs the crew and she hears some rustling in her hear. She presses her fingers to the ear piece and frowns, hoping that with the descent down, they aren't going to lose the connection.

' _Radiation approximately two hundred Rads. Danger levels.'_ Morgan informs her and Journey swallows. No need to tell her, she can hear the Geiger counter whining angrily at her.

They descend another flight of stairs until they reach the power cells. It seems that they've reappeared directly under Rusty. Rose covers her head as energy arcs above them. They all turn in small circles as they marvel in the odd beauty of being directly underneath Rusty. It's eerie. Definitely not something Rose aims to revisit. She had met a Dalek dying before, showed mercy when the Doctor told her not to, because she was naïve and believed that nothing in the universe could be filled with that much hate. How wrong she was. She destroyed them twice now. It makes her wonder if the power within her; still simmering below the surface is trigged by meeting the Daleks. But maybe not. She feels perfectly fine now, even the whispers have grown faint. So she walks beside the Doctor as he turns to her with a blank look.

'We're at the heart of the Dalek.' The Doctor explains to those behind him and Clara trots to catch up but at the same time doesn't want to miss anything that happens in this room.

'It's incredible.' Clara breathes and another blast of energy arcs above their heads. Journey pulls a device from her hip and holds her arm out so that device can get a proper scan. She widens her eyes.

'Geiger counter's off the scale. Looks like it's about to blow.' Journey calls to them and the Doctor shrugs absently, moving around to look for the problem.

'Good.'

Journey gapes at him. 'How is that good?'

'Well, I like a bit of pressure,' The Doctor replies and Rose points to a thin, scraggly wound pouring steam through it. That has to be what is damaging this Dalek. They rush towards it and the Doctor smiles at Rose. 'Good eyes. Rusty, can you hear me?'

' _Doctor…?'_

'Rusty, we've found the damage. I'm sealing up the breach in your power cell.' The Doctor calls and just as he is about to use the sonic as a welder, Rose puts her hand on his arm and he stops, staring at her.

'I've got a bad feeling about this.' Rose informs him and the Doctor lowers his hand and waits for her to explain herself but she remains silent and he ends up having to coax it from her.

'Well? We all have bad feelings about things. Like this entire ordeal. I try to ignore them. You should try it. It could help.'

Rose glares at him. 'No, I'm just thinking…this Dalek is talking about the beauty of stars being born. You and I have been around Daleks for a long time, and you and I had the same reaction to that sentence. It was _weird_. Why would a Dalek suddenly turn on its own kind? Never happens.'

'First time for everything, I guess. Never thought I'd be around to see it.' The Doctor replies and lifts his hand to begin to weld the wound but Rose puts her hand on his arm and once again he pauses and stares at her. He's getting impatient.

'I agree. So what if this sudden change in behaviour is simply because of this leak? The Dalek is being poisoned by radiation. We seal up the wound the poison stops. Things go back to normal. What if the only thing stopping the Dalek from reverting back to its chipper, destructive self is us and this leak?' Rose wonders and the Doctor glances from the wound to Rose several times before he realises that she does have a very good point.

'We won't know unless we try. I want to believe that it is reformed. Changed.'

'There are innocent people out there.' Rose reminds him of Journey's crew as the Doctor lifts his hand once again to begin to repair the wound.

'I know, and there are people in here that are safest here,' The Doctor tells her and Rose closes her eyes as the Doctor begins to weld the gap shut. Slowly the leak is repaired, nothing ebbs out from the crack any more. 'No more radiation poisoning. Good as new. There. Job done.'

Clara blinks in surprise. She didn't hear the majority of the conversation that Rose and the Doctor just had, but it seems that she attempted to delay him for some reason. It hadn't worked, obviously and now the gaping tear that had seen only moments ago has been repaired. That easy?

'That's it? Just like that?' Clara calls and the Doctor spins the sonic in his fingers.

'An anti-climax once in a while is good for my hearts. Rusty? How do you feel?' The Doctor questions but receives no reply. He frowns and looks up to the vastness of the Dalek. 'Rusty? Rusty? Rusty.'

They are lightly jostled. Rose throws her hands out the wall, however it ceases in seconds and there is nothing but silence. Rose feels her heart rate quickening. Calm before the storm? Please let her be wrong. Please let this silence only be systems restarting or rebooting. She exchanges looks with the Doctor, she can tell this is something that he hadn't wanted to happen. Even if they aren't entirely sure what's going on…her mind is sadly going to one place.

' _The malfunction is corrected.'_ Rusty announces. Rose widens her eyes and the jostling resumes. She wonders if it was just her that heard some of the oldness to Rusty's voice. Journey looks around.

'What's happened?'

'Not entirely sure…' The Doctor admits and they are surprised to see that a lighting system has become activated.

'It's like it's waking up.' Journey observes and the Doctor paces back and forth a few times, struggling to comprehend that he might have failed. He desperately tries not to succumb to that notion.

'Rusty, come on, talk to me. What's going on?' The Doctor calls loudly. This time there is little delay in Rusty's response.

' _The malfunction is corrected. All systems are functioning. Weapons charged.'_

'Oh, no. No, no…' The Doctor turns to Rose and widens her eyes.

'The crew! Journey! Tell your men to take cover!' Rose cries and Journey nods her head.

' _Exterminate. Exterminate.'_

'Colonel! Can you hear me?! Fall back! Fall back!' Journey shouts but there is only cackling on the line. 'Can you hear me?! What's happening out there?'

'We can't let Rusty get to the communication console, or line or whatever. If it does…the whole Dalek fleet will know where we are…' Rose tells Journey and she nods frantically. She again relays her message to Morgan. Static on the line. They must be too late. Morgan is already engaged in battle. She bites her lip and presses the communication line to her mouth as she thinks. Which means that the Dalek must have reached the communication lines. Now they need to prep for more Daleks to come on board.

Clara watches helplessly as Journey and Rose attempt to plan an angle to keep Journey's crew safe. Strangely the Doctor is silent. He's merely standing there in defeat. She goes to stand by his side. He remains quiet. Clara glances over her shoulder to Journey as she argues with Rose about the best solution to their problem.

'Doctor? Are you okay? What's happening?' Clara questions softly and the Doctor lightly laughs. But it's an ironic laugh. He doesn't look at her.

'Do you see?' He wonders, tone embittered.

'Do I see what?'

The Doctor motions to their surroundings. 'Daleks don't turn good. It was just radiation affecting its brain chemistry. Like Rose surmised. I should have listened to her. But I wanted to believe…in the end. It was just that. Radiation poisoning. No miracle.'

Journey marches over to the Doctor and Rose closes the gap, not entirely trusting her. 'Let me get this straight. We had a good Dalek, and we made it bad again? That's all we've done?' Journey wonders, she shakes her head at the end of her sentence, not believing her own words. This mission has been a colossal failure. From start to finish. Now, they're losing more good men and women on the outside of this shell. For what? Their own greediness? To make a good Dalek?

'There was never a good Dalek. There was a broke Dalek and we repaired it.' The Doctor corrects and Journey laces her fingers behind her head and paces around a few times, obviously trying to gain control of her anger. Rose narrows her eyes and carefully watches her.

Journey stops in front of the Doctor and inhales deeply. 'You were supposed to be helping us.'

'I have it a shot. It didn't work out. It was a Dalek, what did you expect?' The Doctor wonders rhetorically. Journey smiles at him in disbelief, shaking her head. She points her finger at him.

'No more talking. You are done! Okay, new objective. We are taking this Dalek down. Rose, can I count on you, or are you flinging your support behind the man that got us into this mess?'

' _Exterminate. Exterminate.'_ Rusty's voice echoes above them. So do the cries of its victims. Rose folds her arms.

'Listen, because I am only going to say this once: my support is always behind that man right there. And he knows it. So should you. I will help you to the best of my ability.' Rose informs her and Journey nods her head, not expecting any less. She's trusted Rose more than the Doctor since they met. Maybe it's just a soldier's mentality.

The Doctor is glad Rose threw her support behind him, what else did he expect? However, when he turns to Clara he sees her glaring at him. He looks around the room again hoping that when he lands his gaze on her, she'll be looking somewhere else. He waits a few seconds and when he does set his eyes on her…she's glaring at him. Nothing's changed.

'What's that look for?' He wonders innocently and Clara folds her arms.

'It's the look you get when I'm about to slap you.' She declares and then in a swift motion, she has reached across the gap and her palm connects with his face. Hard.

The Doctor recoils and presses his hand to his cheek, hot from her slap. She continues to glare at him. He stares at her in shock. 'Ow. Clara.'

'Are we going to die in here? I mean, there's a little bit of you that's pleased. The Daleks are evil after all. Everything makes sense. The Doctor is right.' Clara waves her arms sarcastically and Rose looks up from her planning session with Gretchen and Journey.

'Okay, you two, you lot can argue about this mess once we're out.' Rose calls to them and her voice falls on deaf ears.

'Daleks are evil. Irreversibly so. That's what we've just learned.' The Doctor points out and Clara folds her arms shaking her head.

'No, Doctor, that's not what we just learned.'

' _Exterminate. Exterminate.'_

'We need to place these charges for maximum effect. I'm going to scan the rest of the architecture for weaknesses.' Journey announces and Rose nods.

'Be careful not to harm it. Those antibodies will come up fast.' Rose reminds her and they are about to break when Clara holds up her hand.

'One question.'

Journey winces. 'No time.'

Clara ignores her. Journey and Gretchen begin to place explosives around surfaces they believe would be best suited to cause maximum damage. 'Why did we come here today? What was the point? You. You thought there was a good Dalek. What difference would one good Dalek make?'

The Doctor and Rose catch ones another looks. She smirks and raises an eyebrow. 'All the difference in the universe, but it's impossible.'

Clara frowns and tilts her chin away from him. 'Is that a fact? Is that really what we've learned today? Think about it. Is that what we've learned?'

' _Journey, what the hell's happening? That thing's set the Daleks on us. Not to mention it's locked us out of our defences. Journey, you're the Aristotle's only hope, I need you to destroy that Dalek. Whatever it takes.'_ Morgan's voice echoes in Journey's ear and she's elated, so much so that she nearly responds to him. And then more of his sentence registers in her mind. There is no use trying to talk him out of anything. They both know what they need to do.

'Understood, Uncle.'

' _I'm sorry…'_ Morgan replies and Journey smiles bitterly.

'Yeah, me too…' Journey sighs and nods at Gretchen. They resume their task of attempting to place the explosives. Journey fingers the grenade in her pocket before withdrawing her hand.

'Clara Oswald, do I really not pay you?' The Doctor wonders and Clara smirks at him.

'You couldn't afford me.'

The Doctor calls Journey and Gretchen's names and they pause in their work to turn to him. 'Whatever you're going to do, don't do it. This Dalek must not be destroyed. We can do better.'

'Are you out of your mind?!' Journey answers and Rose places her hand on Journey's shoulder, she squeezes it gently. Listen, that's what Rose's touch meant. She must have known he'd do this all along. Whatever _this_ is.

'No, I'm inside a Dalek. I'm standing where I've never been. We cannot waste this chance. It won't come again.' The Doctor informs her and Journey squares herself against him.

'What chance?' She wonders desperately but doesn't wait around to hear the Doctor's reply. 'I have my orders.'

'Soldiers take orders.' The Doctor counters and Journey shakes her head.

'And I'm soldier.'

The Doctor scoffs and motions to the Dalek's interior. 'A Dalek is a better soldier than you will ever be. You can't win this way.'

Journey holds up the grenade, her finger on the pin. One swift movement the pin will be removed and they will be blown to pieces. So will the Dalek. Lives will be saved. But she will lose hers. So will other innocent people in this room. Then again she'd be hopefully reunited with her brother, their long battle days behind them. Nothing but glorious peace. What to do? Go against everything that makes a soldier or listen to a man who has been wrong, he's lied to them. They made a broken Dalek stand again. Made it fight again.

The Doctor watches the internal conflict rage on within Journey. It's hard to talk someone down from the ledge. To make them go against everything they are taught to believe in. He hopes it goes in his favour. He'd hate to be blown up without a chance to put his plan into action.

Journey drops her hand to her side and groans angrily. 'Damnit! So what do we do?'

The Doctor smiles at her. 'Something better! Follow me!'

Again he takes them through the inner casing of the Dalek into another stairwell to a recess. Journey is sceptical. Who wouldn't be? They are inside the Dalek, it is killing folks out there, how can they possibly make it to…where the hell are they even going?! Journey looks up to the Doctor as he calls down to them. He's skipping stairs. Wherever they're going, it must be good.

'The Dalek isn't just some angry blob in a Dalekanium tank. If it was, the radiation would have turned it into a raging lunatic.' The Doctor explains and Journey gapes at him, she nearly misses a step thanks to him.

'It _is_ a raging lunatic, it's a Dalek!' She calls back to him and the Doctor pauses for the slightest of moments and points to her.

'But for a moment, it wasn't. The radiation allowed it to expand its consciousness, to consider things beyond its natural terms of reference. It became good. That means a good Dalek is possible. That's what we learned today. Am I right, teach?' The Doctor wonders, looking down to Clara and she gives him a thumbs up and a big smile.

'Top of the class.'

'But now it's back to how it was.' Journey reminds him and the Doctor can't argue with that logic, so he nods his head.

'Yes. But what it saw, what it felt, is still there.' The Doctor replies and Journey shakes her head. She doesn't want to believe that tripe, yet he's still so compelling. Sensibility takes over.

'What we are hearing out there right now…I'm not seeing it.' Journey remarks quietly, thinking that she won't be heard but the Doctor shakes his head and points to something beyond her vision. When she gets to the ledge she looks up and widens her eyes.

'Not here. There.'

Journey follows his hand and feels her mouth drop open. 'You mean in the cortex vault?'

The Doctor nods and everyone gathers around him. 'Every memory recorded. Some suppressed, but all still intact. We need to show the Dalek that star being born again. Recreate the moment,' He explains and his gaze drops on Clara who hasn't quite noticed it yet. Rose smiles. 'You need to get up there, find that moment and reawaken it.'

There is quietness around them. No one has refuted his plan. No one has said anything. Clara debates it in her own mind. Then she frowns. Rose hasn't countered with her own thoughts, neither Journey nor Gretchen have told him what a bad idea it is…Clara glances up to him and widens her eyes.

'Me?' She wonders stunned and the Doctor nods his head.

'Yes, you. Good idea!'

'How?' Clara begs and the Doctor shrugs at her, smiling.

'Haven't the foggiest. Do a clever thing. And then once you've done it, the Dalek will be suggestible to new ideas. It will be open again. And I will show it something that will change its mind forever.' The Doctor explains and Clara stares past him with wide eyes.

'No pressure…' She answers softly and the Doctor throws his arm around her shoulders.

'None at all!'

'This is crazy. There is no way that we can get back up there in time.' Journey reminds them and Gretchen studies their surroundings. She swallows. Self-sacrifice for the better good. That's what they've been trained to do. She readies the wires.

'Yes there is.' Gretchen informs them and Journey widens her eyes.

'No, Gretchen, it will bring the antibodies back down on us.'

Clara turns up to Rose hoping that she will be coming with her so that they have as many heads together in this mess as can be, ignoring the senseless fighting Gretchen and Journey dissolve into.

'Rose, what are we looking for?'

Rose tilts her head, staring up at the cortex. 'Hm, it's hard to say without seeing it. I'd imagine that it's like a house. Not all the lights are on. After all, lights reveal things that we hide in the darkness.'

'You think the Dalek hides the birth of a star in the dark?'

'Why wouldn't it? If it didn't it would question its entire genetic makeup. Its personal history. It'd be isolated from its own kind. Better to blend in than stand apart in this case.' Rose explains and Clara nods her head. Their thoughts are interrupted by a gun getting cocked. They turn to look at Gretchen. Clara widens her eyes and shakes her head in a vain attempt to stop her. Rose mouths her thanks to Gretchen.

'Ladies…please tell me the truth. Is he mad, or is he right? I've come this far. I was probably going to die anyway. Wouldn't mind something to do for the rest of my life. Is he mad, or is he right?' Gretchen begs and attempts to keep her voice steady. No one likes to stare down their own death, especially if it is involuntarily chosen.

'Both.' Rose replies simply and Gretchen smiles ironically at Rose, suppressing a bitter laugh.

'That doesn't help…one or the other…' Gretchen begs and Clara bites the corner of her lip.

'Hand on my heart? Most days he's both.'

Two vastly different people wouldn't have said the same thing if it weren't true. It makes it just a tiny bit easier. Gretchen turns to the Doctor, who has neither pushed her nor told her that this is what would happen. No, he knew that someone else was going to die, but he didn't pick. Instead he waited for them to figure it out amongst themselves. Though to him he would not pick his two girls, even if they tried to nominate themselves – he'd simply veto it. It would have come down to Journey and herself. She doesn't regret her decision. It just makes her sad that she wasn't coming out. But that's war. Small sacrifices for the larger victories.

'One question, then,' Gretchen swallows a lump in her throat and the Doctor nods at her to continue. 'Is this worth it?'

The Doctor takes a small step towards her. 'If I can turn one Dalek, then I can turn them all. I can save the future.'

His voice rings with conviction. He believes it. Then she must be content with that. She pushes her helmet up out of her eyes and nods her head. A little easier. 'Gretchen Alison Carlisle. Do something good and name it after me.'

The Doctor nods his head at her simple demand. 'I will do something amazing. I promise.'

Gretchen absently nods her head and turns to the opposite wall. 'You just damn well better.'

Journey blinks away the tears and shakes her head feebly. 'Gretchen, no…'

Two wires are fired up into the cranial ledge. The air being sliced by the oncoming antibodies causes Gretchen to look over her shoulder, eyes skilfully scanning the room. 'Go.'

'They're coming. They're coming.' Clara points out and Journey hastily fastens a pulley onto the zip wire. Journey points to the wire and spins Clara around to face it.

'Grab hold of the rope. Don't look down.' Journey instructs and Clara does as she's told. Journey comes up behind her and Gretchen fires one shot at the antibodies so they know to come solely after her.

'Good luck.' She whispers and watches as Journey and Clara fly upward. Clara looks behind her.

'Journey! Rose! We forgot Rose!'

'Relax Clara! Look!' Journey shouts and sure enough Rose and the Doctor are leaving together, where no one knows. Gretchen continues to fire at the antibodies until she is killed, screaming – it engulfs them as the sound reverberates off the walls. They can't even cover their ears.

* * *

The Doctor puts his arm around Rose and she turns into him as they stride from the cranial ledge. Death is never something one gets used to. And yet they will look death in its eyestalk. They faced Daleks before together. After their paths parted. And will continue to do so…simply put…they are a team. She and him. She was there when he faced the Daleks for the first time in the Time War, and she'll be there time and time again.

Rose slows her pace down as they approach the organic compartment. She hopes Clara listened to her clues. Those visions and voices she heard…she wondered if it was Bad Wolf guiding her to say the right things. She wraps her arms around herself as the Doctor strides towards Rusty in no mood for semantics. She truly hopes this will be successful.

'Well, Rusty, here we are. Eye to eye.'

' _You cannot save the humans. They will be exterminated. I shall join the Dalek units in the final attack.'_ Rusty declares and Rose stands beside the Doctor.

'A part of me…is crying for justice.' Rose whispers and the Doctor looks down at her. She runs her fingers over his hand and he can feel the energy of the Vortex bubbling away at the surface. Golden trails leave an impression on his hand where she had just run her fingers down.

'You just keep her locked away. There will be no more fighting today.'

Rose nods her head and silently watches Rusty. Part of her wants to wave her hand once more and have them dissolve like they were never there to begin with. Part of her wants to show mercy. Since that is all she can do at the moment. She clings to mercy.

'I saved your life, Rusty. Now I'm going to go one better. I'm going to save your soul.'

' _Daleks do not have souls.'_

'Oh, no? Imagine if you did. What then, Rusty? What would happen then?' The Doctor questions however he receives no reply from Rusty. Rose looks up to him with a hopeful smile.

'Do you remember a star, Rusty? One little star that was born. The beauty in it?' Rose tries and closes her eyes as the silence surrounds them.

' _There is no beauty in the birth of a star. Daleks destroy many stars. And Daleks will burn many more.'_

The Doctor sighs. 'Without the memory of it, Rusty has nothing to go on.'

'Hopefully Clara and Journey have found something to help.'

* * *

When Clara and Journey manage to pull themselves onto the ledge of the cranial portion of the Dalek, Clara's mind has been racing. How can she think up some elaborate plan on the fly? Okay, okay no problem, the Doctor does this all the time. How hard can it be? Clara looks at what she's got to work with. Nothing helpful. A hallway with panels. Incredible. She wonders how she can jumpstart memories. Surely it isn't like boosting a car battery, is it? Journey watches Clara stand in one spot for a moment. Then move a few paces. Then stop.

'So what do we do?' Journey interrupts and Clara is shaken from her thoughts. She absently points at nothing.

'Er, a clever thing, quickly. Think, think, think, think…' Clara squeezes her eyes shut. Clever and quick. She suddenly snaps her eyes open. Rose! Her words. Clara slowly turns her head to some of the panels. Like a house…not all the lights on. Light shines on the dark…that brilliant, cheeky girl! How did she know? 'Look! Some of the lights are out!'

Journey frowns. 'Yeah, we've got a damaged Dalek. You want to complain to someone?'

'But it's not damaged, look at them.' Clara insistently points to them and Journey rolls her eyes, sighing as she looks at the panels that are illuminated and others that are not.

'So?'

'So, the Doctor said that this was a memory bank and some of the memories were suppressed. Rose told me she imagined this area like a house. Not all the lights are on. What if…what if the dark spots are hidden memories? What if one of those is the Dalek seeing a star?' Clara surmises and Journey folds her arms impatiently.

'Seriously?'

Clara nods her head eagerly. Though the more Journey questions her the more Clara begins to doubt herself. 'Yeah. Well, maybe. It's either that or the bulbs need changing.'

'It really could be the bulbs.' Journey agrees and Clara huffs.

'Got a better idea?' Clara snaps and begins to feel around the lip of the panel, trying to see if there is a way that it will simply pop off. She tugs lightly on different spots.

'Really wish I had.' Journey sighs and watches Clara continue to yank on the panel. She nearly tells Clara to stop wasting her time when they hear something click.

'Ah ha!' Clara pulls one of the panels off and peers into it. She gingerly sets the panel down and leans herself in deeper. She turns over her shoulder. 'Watch out for antibodies. Let's see if there's an on switch…'

Journey watches Clara disappear behind and into the memory banks. The seconds that tick by feel like hours. All is quiet around them which she takes to be a good sign. However, it does nothing to stop the knot twisting in her stomach. They must be near the end of this mess…how much longer can it go on?

'Clara…you all right?' Journey calls softly, worrying that she hears no noise from her.

'I'm in the cortex…' Clara trails off and Journey smiles a bit.

'If there's a pack of spare bulbs, break it to me gently.' Journey tells her and there is a bit of rustling before Clara lets out a little cry of triumph. The dark panel she's hit creates a flash. After a flicker some lights spring to life.

'Huh…' Clara looks around her and spies the next panel.

'Clara, you okay?'

'Yeah, I think there was some sort of energy charge.'

'You got the first lights on.' Journey commends and Clara nods her head.

'Of course, it's a brain. Brains work with electrical pathways linking up memories. It's working! It's working, we're turning the memories back on.' Clara is elated. She's done a quick thing. Now all she has to do is keep hustling along, so she attempts to pick up the pace of her crawling over this flexible tubing. Their presence won't go unnoticed for ever.

Journey turns her head towards the cranial entrance. She can hear them. Trouble is coming. She crouches down to the cortex vault. She doesn't want to die and leave Clara unprotected.

'You'd better get a move on. There's company coming…' Journey warns and Clara widens her eyes. She grabs at another panel.

'Show me a star, Rusty…'

* * *

Images of dying soldiers appear on the screens before them. They had watched as a sudden flash travelled down the neurones to Rusty. The Doctor and Rose exchange a smile together. Clara and Journey are figuring it out. Only a little while longer before that star appears on the screens as well. They'll convert one of these Daleks yet.

'Your memories, Rusty. I'm about to give some back to you.'

'Way to go, Clara…' Rose breathes and watches the images shift before her eyes. The Doctor leaves her and runs it over some tubing that's closest to them.

'See, all those years ago, when I began,' He pauses and uses the sonic on the tubing that is housing a set of neurones and splits the tubing in a clean line. He pulls it apart. 'I was just running. I called myself the Doctor, but it was just a name. And then I went Skaro. And then I met you lot and I understood who I was. The Doctor was not the Daleks.'

Images and impulses are free flowing now in a rapid pace down the cables and into Rusty. The images are of Daleks flying in space, attacking the Valiant from before. Rose looks away. She remembers those memories. How painful they can be to her sometimes when she least expects it.

The Doctor notices that Rose is looking away. He notices that the images of the Valiant have appeared. That's what surprised her. Rose catches him watching her and she gives him a soft smile.

'So long ago…' She comments and the smile ran away from her eyes. She looks down to her feet. So much had changed since then. Not everything for the better.

'I'm sorry you had to see that,' The Doctor replies. She doesn't look at him. How could they have known that the Valiant would appear? They are memories. Not something easily controlled. Their attention is drawn to the impulses as they continue to fly down the cables to Rusty. 'Oh, look. It's your memories again. It's like somebody's mucking about up there. Memories, all those memories. Do you remember the star you saw being born?'

Silence before them. _'I, I remember…'_ Rusty states uneasily and Rose looks up to the Doctor surprised.

The Doctor takes a step forward. 'You saw the truth, Rusty. Remember how you felt. You saw a star being born. The endless rebirth of the universe.'

' _No.'_

Undeterred the Doctor continues. 'And you realised the truth about the Daleks.'

' _Truth?'_ Rusty wonders, entirely unsure of the conversation. Rose thought she heard hesitation in that Dalek's monotone voice. _'What is the truth?'_

The Doctor closes his eyes in relief. He feels Rose taking his hand and he nods his head. This is it. He's about to change history. 'Let me show you the truth. I've opened your mind and now I'm coming in.'

Rose releases his hand and the Doctor picks up the two cut pieces of neurone together with his bare hands and splices them. Rose doesn't realise what he's doing until she's done it. He screams as the energy surges through his body and Rose gasps, throwing her hand out and attempts to close the gap.

'Doctor! Oh, god!' She cries and he shakes his head at her to leave him be. It will be all right he silently tells her. Rose can only look on in horror and she covers her mouth with her hands. Her heart is in her throat. What will happen if something goes wrong?

'I'm part of you. My mind is your mind.'

' _I see your mind, Doctor. I see your universe.'_ Rusty replies and Rose holds her breath. The Doctor smiles at his accomplishment.

'And isn't the universe beautiful?'

' _I see…beauty.'_ Rusty agrees and Rose throws her fist into the air in triumph. She can't believe this. She can't believe she is witnessing this.

'Yes, that's good. That is good. Hold on to that.' The Doctor instructs and creeps ever closer towards the goal.

' _I see endless, divine perfection._ ' Rusty informs them and Rose exhales her surprise. This is going to work. They've done it. They have managed to successfully reprogram a Dalek. Who'd have thought.

'Make it a part of you. Remember how you feel right now. Put it inside you and live by it.' The Doctor informs Rusty and delves deeper into the Doctor's mind for guidance. What he discovers stuns him and yet helps him in his metamorphosis. He builds a new creed upon the final part of the soul before him.

' _I see into your soul, Doctor. I see beauty. I see divinity. I see hatred.'_ Rusty declares and Rose widens her eyes. The Doctor stares stunned.

'Hatred?' He repeats. Rose shakes her head; how can this be possible? Hatred? Of what? How could hatred be there?!

' _I see your hatred of the Daleks and it is good.'_ Rusty declares and Rose is gobsmacked. How could he allow his antagonistic nature for the Daleks bleed into something like this? This has now been compromised. Can they fix it? Is there even a point?

'No, no, no. You must see more than that, there must be more than that.' The Doctor begs and Rose doesn't believe that he did this with a malicious intent. Deep down within him, perhaps so far down even the Doctor didn't know, he will always harbour a resounding resentment for the Daleks. And that is something that doesn't wipe away so easily.

It fools you. Tricks you into believing you're tolerant, willing to accept change. However, the first attempt to go against the grain that part of you snaps back, makes you take a hard look at yourself, realising that there is more work to be done. Rose throws her hand up.

'Let me try! Our history is not as tainted as yours. I've shown them mercy!' Rose shouts and the Doctor shakes his head in defeat.

' _Death to the Daleks.'_ Rusty shouts in triumph.

'You've also destroyed them as well. There is blood on your hands too.' The Doctor reminds her and Rose feels her cheeks burn with shame.

'Perhaps. But not as stained as yours. Let me try!' Rose insists and she looks over when Rusty begins to declare his intent.

' _Death to the Daleks. Death to the Daleks.'_

'No, there must be more than that. There must be more than that. Please.' The Doctor begs and Rose takes a few more careful steps towards him. She is unsure if he wants her comfort, perhaps misconstruing it for pity. She swallows her tears. The humans are safe. But at what cost?

She watches at the Doctor slowly comes towards her. She holds her hand out to him. He surprises her by taking it and further by pulling her into a tight embrace.

'I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry…' Rose breathes and places her hand on his cheek when he pulls away to look at her. He closes his eyes in defeat.

' _Daleks are evil. Daleks must be exterminated. Daleks are evil,'_ Rusty drones on and on. There are massively loud explosions erupting all around them. Rose glances up to see Rusty firing a laser beam and the opposing Daleks are torn and ripped apart. Every single one of them _. 'The Daleks are destroyed.'_

Rusty confidently informed them of that. Rose had just witnessed it and she feels the Doctor hold onto her tighter as Rusty's declaration echoes around them, he chuckles lightly.

'Of course they are. That's just what you do, isn't it?' He wonders sourly. Rose pulls away. She stares into those icy blue eyes and places a light kiss on his cheek.

'This wasn't your fault.'

'I had the chance to do something incredible here today, Rose. Instead I let my own buried hatred seep into my soul. I am just as damaged as they are. There is no escaping that. I foolishly thought there was. Instead we're bound by centuries old hatred for one another. Maybe that will never change.'

Rose holds his hand. 'You tried. Tired! If I had told you a year earlier that you would have had the chance to attempt this feat you'd have laughed me right out of the TARDIS. It was a result. Not the one we wanted, of course. But we discovered something.'

'What?'

'That it _is_ possible!'

'No. This is an ending. Not the one we wanted nor deserved. We've simply come full circle. It's an ending. Let's leave it at that.'

'Doctor!' Rose hisses as he strides from the organic compartment. She's left alone for a few moments, she looks over her shoulder to Rusty and bites her lip. 'Rusty. Are you still there?'

' _I can hear you.'_

'Do you know who I am?'

' _I have no recollection of your identity, human.'_

'I had the pleasure of meeting the Daleks a long time ago,' Rose pauses however she continues when Rusty offer no reply. 'I showed mercy to a Dalek once. And then I destroyed an entire fleet.'

' _Humans cannot defeat Daleks.'_

'You're right. But I wasn't human at the time. I was someone else,' Rose pauses and tilts her head. 'Rusty…if you had looked into my soul and found mercy, would it have changed your mind about destroying the Daleks?'

' _Daleks need to be destroyed. They are evil. Death to the Daleks.'_

'Would you look, Rusty?' Rose offers but hears nothing from him she sighs, and desperately tries again. 'Please try, Rusty. Just look-…'

'Rose, come on! We need to find Clara and Journey and get out of here.' The Doctor calls to her and Rose sighs. She doesn't want to believe they have failed. It doesn't escape her mind that they just might have. Maybe that's why she doesn't pursue the matter further.

She crosses the floor and joins the Doctor who has paused to watch her and holds his hand out to her. She takes it greedily and hangs on tightly. They are silent. Lost in their own thoughts. Rose doesn't want to concede defeat. Something amazing has happened here today. Maybe it was just them coming full circle. Then again the Doctor's word plays loudly in her mind. It's an ending yes, time to leave it at that.

* * *

When they were reunited Morgan had come at them demanding how they had managed to turn the Dalek on his own kind. They had chosen not to answer and thankfully, Morgan had realised that there had been a problem and let the matter go. He did thank the Dalek for its help in securing their freedom. Rusty hadn't accepted the thanks, just repeated the mantra instead. Daleks are evil. Death to Daleks. It had rubbed salt on the wound for the Doctor, Rose could see it. Clara was confused about it. All Rose had said to her was the fact that the outcome hadn't gone in their favour. Clara hadn't asked twice. She had seen the detachment in the Doctor's eyes.

'I have transmitted a retreat signal. The Daleks will believe the humans have initiated the ship's self-destruct.' Rusty explains and the Doctor doesn't answer him. Clara frowns.

'What about you, Rusty?'

'I must go with them.' Rusty answers and the Doctor smirks at him.

'Of course you must. You've unfinished work, haven't you?' The Doctor taunts and Rose lightly elbows him. Rusty seems to have sensed the goading nature of the Doctor's words and turns to face him fully.

'Victory is yours, but it does not please you.' Rusty observes and the Doctor shakes his head at him. This was not a victory at all. This was him meddling around with things that shouldn't have been meddled with.

'You looked inside me and you saw hatred. That's not victory. Victory would have been a good Dalek.' The Doctor responds and Rusty looks the Doctor up and down with his eyestalk before moving towards him.

'I am not a good Dalek. You are a good Dalek.' Rusty decides and turns to leave, moving only a few feet before he turns to look back at the Doctor, who nods at him.

'Till the next time.' The Doctor whispers and nudges Rose, she turns to him and they silently make their exit. He's never wanted to be on board the TARDIS more in all his life. He needs the security and familiarity.

Rose takes his hand. 'How are you?'

'Fine,' He answers automatically. 'You?'

'Also fine.'

'But not really?'

'No. And you?'

'Also no,' The Doctor smiles at her. 'Then what are we going to do, the two of us?'

'I'll make tea. It'll be good to just…sit. Even apart if need be.' Rose offers and he looks at her and nods his head.

'You do make a good cup of tea.'

'You know my mum taught me.'

'Why'd you have to spoil it by bringing your mother into this?' The Doctor wonders and Rose clicks her tongue. Rude, her jab tells him. He reaches for the door when someone calls his name.

'Doctor!'

They both pause by the TARDIS and turn around, seeing Clara trotting to catch them and Journey behind her. Clara catches eyes with Rose and she shakes her head lightly. Oh? Things are going to get interesting?

'Yes?' The Doctor wonders and turns to face Journey. She pauses a few feet from them and watches Rose open the door to the TARDIS. Journey swallows her nervousness.

'Take me with you.' She begs and the Doctor gives her a light smile. Journey can tell that in that smile is the word no. Now he just has to articulate why.

'I think you're probably nice. Underneath it all, I think you're kind and you're definitely brave. I just wish you hadn't been a soldier.' The Doctor tells her and Journey feels a lump in her throat. She can feel the tears welling up, giving her eyes a glassy appearance. Still he does nothing but turn his back to her and step into his ship with Rose.

Journey feels like an idiot for ever asking. She had nothing here and hoped he'd let her do good things with him. Instead she has nothing here and has to stay here with nothing. Everything reminding her of her brother. She just wanted to forget. To forge a new path on her own. Why can't she do that? Why'd he deny her? Because of her military background? It's unfair. Journey catches eyes with Clara. They both exchange sheepish looks and she follows the other two into the ship.

Journey watches it evaporate into nothing. Then the tears fall. She lets them. Before she regains composure. The only thing she can do now? Keep on keeping on. There will be other battles. There are always wars that need to be fought. After all…she's just a soldier.

* * *

Out of breath, Clara runs up the stairs in new clothing and sighs. Rose signals her to do a little turn and Clara does so. Rose takes a deep drink from her mug of tea and holds her thumb up in an approval. The Doctor is quiet.

'Yeah, you think I look good?'

'Sure. Maybe a bit short and round-ish. But with good personality, which is the main thing.' The Doctor interjects without thinking and Clara shakes her head. Rose rolls her eyes.

'I meant my clothes. I just changed.' Clara informs him and again the Doctor doesn't look around the console to take a look at her.

'Oh, good for you, still making an effort.' He replies and Rose sets her mug of tea down.

'You went with the red pumps. Much better. I like the pop of colour.'

'Your suggestion. Brilliant.' Clara extends her left leg in front of her to show off the ruby coloured shoe on her foot.

'What can I say, I love fashion. Pity I don't get to show it off more.' Rose tells her and Clara smiles.

'Okay, right, you're back in your cupboard, thirty seconds after you left.' The Doctor explains and finally comes around the console to look at her. Clara gives him an appreciative smile.

'Okay. Right. So, when will I see you both again?' Clara wonders and Rose holds up her hands in uncertainty before pointing to the Doctor, since he does make all the choices with the TARDIS after all.

'Oh. Soon, I expect. Or later. One of those.' He replies and Clara absently nods her head as she opens the door. She's about to go when she hesitates and then squares herself to look at the Doctor. She tilts her chin away from him.

'I don't know.' Clara tells him firmly. The Doctor frowns.

'I'm sorry?'

'You asked me if you're a good man and the answer is, I don't know. But you're trying to be and I think that's probably the point.' Clara smiles at him and the Doctor returns hers. He walks the few feet till he standing in front of her and Clara places her hands on her hips.

'I think you're probably an amazing teacher.'

'I think I'd better be.' Clara embraces him tightly and they hold onto one another for a few moments before Clara pulls away and waves goodbye to them. She quietly shuts the door and Rose puts the TARDIS into motion.

The Doctor comes around to stand beside her and puts his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Together they stand in silence. Silence is nice on the TARDIS every once and awhile. What's wrong with it? Nothing, everyone goes to a corner and has time with their thoughts. Speak of those thoughts…Rose is glad his comfort level is growing around her, relieved he's taking initiative to seek her comfort and embrace. To know that she can be his rock if he needs it. She hopes that whatever looms on the horizon for them, they will face it together.

How wrong she'd be. The sun is setting on her horizon. Quickly. And she doesn't even know it.

* * *

It's just a warehouse, of nondescript nature. Millions of abandoned warehouse are littered over this country. People pass them by. Without a thought. Those warehouses fall into ruin and decay, they rot until they become a hazard and are torn down, years after they are past their prime. They become tagged with imagery and words and designs. They become hangouts for people and refuges for those society has forgotten. So this particular one on this particular street, doesn't stand out to anyone. They walk on by. Listening to the music pour out into the streets. People assume it's high teenagers looking for a place to hang out in peace, whether they are trespassing on private property or not. No one calls the cops. What's the point? Those kids would be gone at first sight of the flashing lights.

Though…if someone had gotten curious enough to peer into the broken windows to see a lone light on a poor soul…well…those cops should be called. No one will. It's not their business. Besides. This is a good song.

 _Well I don't know why I came here tonight/ I've got a feeling that something ain't right/ I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair/ And I'm wondering how I'll get down these stairs/ Clowns to the left of me/ Jokers to the right/ Here I am…_

A gunshot rings out. A man screams in pain.

'Now I'm running out of places to shoot. Tell me what I need to know.'

Panting the main tied to the chair shakes his head, sweat covering him in a fine layer from the shock and adrenaline. 'I don't know! I do _not_ know!'

'You're lying.'

'I'm not. You know we disbanded after that debacle on Ulzar. It was a miracle we all weren't shot on the spot.' The bleeding man replies and the man holding the gun paces around the room a bit. The heel of his boots reverberating off the walls of the warehouse. The bleeding man looks at his knees, destroyed. Nothing left but splintered bones and bullets.

 _Well you started out with nothing/ And you're proud that you're a self-made man_

The man holding the gun pauses and turns back to the man tied in the chair. 'I know. We all left after that, didn't we? But she had suspicions, didn't she? Relayed them to you. You all start digging. Each one picking up the torch when I killed the one before.'

'I don't know where she is. We haven't been in contact since that day.' The bleeding man insists and cries out as a bullet pierces him in the shoulder. He grits his teeth.

'You've solved it, though. I know you have. She planted the seed, you four harvested the crop. I bet you hoped that you'd be able to reunite with her to take me down. Instead I'm going to kill you, then I'm going to find her and kill her. Only after I'm told where the evidence is. So, please. Do tell.'

'She doesn't know anything beyond her own thoughts. Yes, I failed to get into touch with her before you found me, but I took precautions. I've scattered the evidence.'

Another shot to the other shoulder. The man leans forward. When will his brain let him pass out from the pain. Better yet, when will he die. He's been shot five times. None of them kill shots. Only shots to inflict the maximum damage on the pain factor.

'Again, you're a terrible liar, Malley. Always were. I know you've kept it all together, addressed it to her and stashed it somewhere. Question is, have you contacted her about the location? That I'm not sure yet. She hasn't called…'

Malley laughs. 'She'd never call you. She loathes you.'

'I'm so hurt you all went behind my back to implicate me in a double homicide.'

'We didn't implicate. We have hard evidence.' Malley states confidently and the man with the gun walks around in front of him and crouches down. He places his hand on Malley's shoulder and he screams in pain when the man squeezes it.

'I know. I'll find it. Before she does. And lure her here as a trap and put one right between her eyes. Like I'll do with you and like I did with Grady, Buck and Tran. That's how you get away with murder.' The man explains and Malley shakes his head, leaning forward.

'You can try. But the truth has a way of getting out. You'll be caught. And brought to justice.'

The man shakes his head. 'I don't think so. I've already killed three, about to be four. I'll get her. Trap her and kill her. Nothing more or less. And this whole thing will be like it never happened.'

'Evil will always get its comeuppance. Alwa-…' Malley is silenced by a bullet in his head, blood trickling down between this eyes and his head lolls forward. The man holding the gun reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He holds one to his mouth and next reaches for a lighter. He ignites it and brings it to his mouth, inhaling deeply.

 _Well I don't know why I came here tonight/ I got a feeling that something ain't right_

'Malley you asshole, it didn't have to be like this, if you had…wait, no, it was always going to end like this. I've just got to find that evidence. But first…a little phone call…' The man reaches for his phone and pulls up the contact information. He begins to walk towards the door of the warehouse and tosses his lighter over his shoulder into the wet floor around him. Instantly the moment the fire touches the gasoline, it ignites. Licking every surface the gasoline has touched, it's only seconds before it's reaches Malley's slumped over body. He erupts into flames.

The man smiles at her picture. Reunited and it's gonna feel so good. It'll be nice to see something so beautiful before he snuffs it out.

 _Stuck in the middle with you, here I am stuck in the middle with you_

* * *

Whelp. Another one down. Geeze, the updates are taking longer and longer. It has been a crazy four months. I have two job which is taking up so much of my time, I've moved houses and it's just…life. I don't get to write as often as I want, but I hope I've made up for the lack of updates in this chapter, though I hadn't realized it was so short. Amlost 20K words short, not like me at all... Things are getting darker. Is that a storm on the horizon? I'm about to bring pain, people.

I also have a…devious thought. I thought about a crossover between DW and…Supernatural. I have a few ideas but am hesitant to start writing them as I know those who do write Supernatural FF are exceptional story tellers and do seem to be protective of their perceived pairings. I respect it. I'd like to give it a shot. I can weave a few stories into this story and in the next one too. Let me know your thoughts. I'd like to try but only if people will be receptive. I'm nervous. Never done crossover before.

Anyway as always, please let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Your support is appreciated as always


	4. Robot of Sherwood

The deserts that surrounded this sleepy little town has gorgeous sunsets and sunrises. She had sat at the window and watched both of them. With a messy sleeping schedule like hers, sometimes meant that she was up at awkward hours in between the early birds and night owls. Perhaps that why she always had a look of sleepiness in the back of her mind that bled through to her eyes. This stunning mess of light that seeped through the thin curtains of the bedroom made the earth sprawled before the town somehow larger. Brighter. Wilder. It demanded more. But in a silent way and yet it was certain of itself. The way it carried its textures that encouraged those it encased to explore it. To absorb the sounds of life that inhabited it, all of the air housed in it and the shadows created by the light. It wanted you to study its movement, to become familiar with it and to become comfortable around it.

It was an easy task for this little Mexican town in 1898. Since that meant that in the abundance of life on this planet in different habitats, it didn't mean that they got to skip the desert. This little town, while built had left the desert and its life alone. To be marvelled at. One could almost find solitude in it, or solace to know that it had not been rearranged by the hand of man. Peace beyond any understanding.

When they had landed, and stepped only forty-eight hours prior, the vastness of the desert greeted them, the town a small, thin black line beyond them. It seemed to sit on the horizon. In the distance, they could hear wild horses, all the life. There were plants, and sand and hills with rings. A sky with no clouds. The heat was hot and the ground was dry, but the air was full of sound. Towards the town they had begun. After an eternity, it seemed like, they had become burnt by the sun, thirsty and slightly irritable with one another. She had said that next time he ought to have moved the TARDIS closer as she had been certain she had sand everywhere. He had been slightly more jovial and had enjoyed teasing her. That set her off. So, they had continued in silence. Until something had caught her eye. A riverbed. Long since dried. The story it told of a river that flowed made them sad to think it was dead. He had pointed over to the west of them. She had been able to see the horses that had paused to regard them. That had seemed to bridge their tension. He had smiled at her and took her hand.

 _After nine days I let the horse run free, cause the desert had turned to sea…_ she sang and they had continued on.

 _Not this time, Rose,_ he had replied to her sing song observation. _I think the sea is a long way away._

 _Under the cities, lies a heart made of ground but the humans will give no love._ She continued on anyway. He had stared to the skies.

 _No truer words spoken,_ he had agreed. She looked up and had smiled. Switching gears.

 _On a dark desert highway. Cool wind in my hair…_

He had laughed. _You're not on the right highway_. He had looked over to her and joined her briefly as she sang the next line. _Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air…_

The sun had begun its descent by the time they had reached this little village, a shimmering light in the distance. Even the people were beginning to ready themselves of the blue veil of night to fall. The air had cooled just a touch and the humidity had been halved. They had wandered looking for a place to stay. And had hoped that someone from the locals would be friendly enough to chat them up. Instead all they had done was point to the nearest little hotel. Obviously wondering where two strangers had come from without any visible means of transportation.

She looks over her shoulder when the door opens and smiles at him. She moves her hair back off her shoulders while he bends to zip up the back of her dress as he comes closer. He lingers there. She closes her eyes and holds her breath. _Your hair,_ he says to her. _It's a long as it was when we first met. We've come full circle._

She stares at him. Give me more. She pleads silently and yet she wants to shout at him to kiss her. _What else?_ She wonders, _I'm greedy. Tell me what you like about me._

He stumbles over his words. She has obviously caught him off guard with that comment. She can see that he's debating whether to comment on what he likes based on their long history together or what he loves about her as his former lover. Does that mean that the spark between them has faded all together? She bites the corner of her lip. She remembers asking him before she met the new him – what will happen if you don't like me this time? I'm not the same person I was when took my hand ten years ago. No one is expected to remain the same. He gently grips her chin. He can't help but notice the way the candle light makes the gold flecks in her eyes burn brighter. Those hazel eyes have become just that much more enchanting. To him, she's perfect.

 _You're one of my favourite humans. What do I like about you, besides everything? You're one of my greatest successes, Rose. We met by accident and look what you've achieved with and without me – especially without me. What you've over come because of me or not, doesn't matter, you've come through. You're full of heartache and poetry. To me…that means that you try to save the wolves instead of running from them. You're my light in the darkest of times, Rose. Doesn't matter how many faces I have worn, or will wear. No matter how many people come and go. You are constant to me. You're my firecracker._

 _You asked me before what would happen if there ever would come a time when I wouldn't like you. Why do you fear that'd even happen? It should be my fear. What would I do if you ever wanted to stop travelling with me? No one has ever gotten this close to me Rose, I used to fear it, wondering what I had done not only to myself, but to you. I'm glad I stopped resisting a long time ago._

 _You still like me?_

 _Only if you still like me_ , he counters and she nods. She's immensely grateful that he's gotten over his reservations about her. It comforts her to know that they have the opportunity to get close to one another. On a level that's extremely intimate.

The music starts up, filling their little room with an infectious tune as the celebrations begin. She's nowhere near ready. She lets her eyes wander to the window and he leaves her to go investigate, pulls aside the curtain and shakes his head.

'You humans…years and years I've been here and you always manage to surprise me.' He comments.

'What have we done now?' Rose wonders with a soft smile and tilts the vanity mirror towards the light and picks up her makeup pallets. She frowns. How creative can she get?

'Death isn't a hindrance to you or something to be feared. Instead you look at it as an opportunity to visit with those who are gone. You leave treats and toys for them, blankets for them to rest from their journey. It amazes me.' The Doctor replies excitedly. Rose lines her eyelids carefully.

'Every culture is different.' Rose reminds him and the Doctor watches the people begin to file out into the streets.

'Yes, precisely why I enjoy it. You all imagine death differently. And here? It's a time of unification with departed love ones.' The Doctor remarks and Rose shrugs seeing his point.

'So, we all converge on the cemetery. Do you think we'll actually see ghosts?'

'I don't know, isn't that the best part?' The Doctor wonders and Rose winces.

'I've had enough fun with ghosts to last a lifetime, thanks.' She tells him seriously and goes back to the design she's envisioning for herself. She hopes they're successful in finding this lost soul so that the family may have closure.

She lets her mind wander back to the night they first arrived. The music carries her away.

They had reluctantly been granted a room from the proprietor at the hotel who had constantly been giving them wayward looks. They had soon discovered that the little village was uncomfortable around foreigners. They were presumed to be Americans when they first entered the village, and the proprietor softened when they found out that they were not American but rather one identified as British and the other strangely never stated where he had been from, merely here and there.

Once the fire had been lit and maintained for a few minutes the Doctor had announced that he had wanted to wander around, she wished him luck however she had desperately wanted to bathe. Oh, it had taken forever for the kettle to boil the water to fill up the steel tub in the adjacent room. By the time she had had enough, she almost didn't want one. However, once she had taken a look at her visage in the streaky polished glass of the mirror – sand swept hair and dirt smudges that had covered her face, hands and well everything – she had changed her mind. The proprietor had knocked and left a little tray of goods. Sweet perfumes, oils – the Americans that had travelled down here often left things behind. Usually unopened and perfectly fine. So she had accepted and in the interim, the water had cooled significantly. It still had turned her skin bright pink but she had quickly adapted.

She had become lost in her thoughts through the mundane tasks of washing the sweat from the sun prior to their arrival, the sand that had collected there she had been absently humming _Hotel California_ , running her hand through her hair as she scrubbed away the day. She wondered when they were going to head back to the TARDIS. Maybe after they had a good night's rest. She hadn't realised that she had been in the water so long that the coolness set in before she was ready to get out. She had put up with it as long as she could before she had to give up and reached over for the towel she had left close by.

 _Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice_

 _And she said, 'we are all just prisoners here, of our own device…'_

She had been absently drying off, singing and staring at her dirty clothes – truly wishing she had had another spare set – when she had turned to face the door to the bedroom and it had swung open, the Doctor standing there. She froze in mid action of wrapping the towel around her while a heavy awkward silence had taken its time passing over them. She had stared ahead waiting for this to be over. While he had been staring at her before he moved his gaze to the ceiling and then back to her. He had smiled.

 _So, I made us dinner reservations!_ He had announced to her. She still hasn't come to the conclusion if he had noticed her nudity. Probably…

Rose had pressed her mouth together. _Can, can you turn around, please?_

He had frowned but nonetheless had obliged. _I suppose. I don't know why you're so modest. I've seen-…_

 _Yes, that's enough. Okay. Dinner, yeah? Where?_

 _Why are humans so uncomfortable with nakedness?_ He had wondered and looks over his shoulder, she was just in the middle of sliding her shirt back on. _Would you feel better if I joined you? There's nothing wrong with-…_

 _No! You're making it awkward. Just…yeah. Anyway, I'm dressed. So, tell me all about your adventures._ Rose had placed her hand on his shoulder and he had smiled eagerly at her.

 _Well, you're not going to believe it. Tomorrow is_ _Día de Muertos. I'd like to stay to see the beauty of that night begin, and I found us a little spot for dinner coupled with a problem._ He had informed her. Rose had taken a second to digest all he said.

 _Okay. First things first. So, it's the 31_ _st_ _of October tomorrow. I'd like to stay for that too. We have dinner. And that's the problem?_

 _No, our problem is at dinner._ He clarified and Rose tilted her head.

 _How did you find a problem with dinner? You work so fast._ Rose had commented and he shrugged absently.

 _There is always something to be found if you go looking._

He had led her to a little house on the boundaries of the village and the desert, close to the cemetery. Rose hadn't been able to stop herself and had been constantly sneaking peeks at it. She had attempted to imagine a scene to unfold tomorrow night. What could it entail? Surely this is more of an event that people gather around the alters made in their homes to honour those that have passed on. To visit their graves and leave things behind in remembrance and shower the roads with marigolds and candles – to guide those who're lost – home. She had believed this to be nothing but figuratively. Traditions passed down from generation to generation. Those spirits couldn't possibly be able to assemble in masses – could they? There were parts of her that were immensely curious. And those that had become a little uneasy. Who could blame her? Rose had linked her arm with the Doctor's and had attempted to push the intrusive thoughts away. For the time being.

Their hosts, Bianca and Rodrigo had been immensely hospitable to them. They fed them an amazing meal of delicious food that Rose had never had the pleasure of trying before. Authentic and savory. Then came the tale of woe and the supposed reason they had been there to help. They had broached the subject carefully, unsure of how to bring it up them. The Doctor had encouraged them, still they had been reluctant. Lola and Luis. Those had been the names that Rodrigo had started with. Their children. He had shown them the only picture they had of the children. They had been taken from them when a bout of cholera passed through the village. Two beautiful children no older than seven and nine. Each year since their deaths, nearly three years ago, when Día de Muertos had arrived they went to the cemetery with the others to see if they could but catch a glimpse of their children. It had always been met with unsuccessful attempts. Even those in the village had attempted to see them, no luck. Bianca had been unsure if perhaps the children playing tricks on them, staying away as a joke or perhaps because they had been confused about their circumstances. One minute they were sick – but alive – and the next moment they had been surrounded by darkness. It could be their confusion that had been keeping them away and in their fear they were hiding.

Others in the village were too preoccupied with their own reunions to help them find their children. They had separated, searched high and low for them. They had scoured spots nearby, their favourite spots to play when they had been alive. Desperately how they had tried to find them. They would return to their home at the break of dawn as it had crept slowly over the land, bathing it in heat empty handed and in tears. They would return the first of November. They had grown desperate by the second of November. When they came upon their front door on the morning of the third and final day – defeated and in tears – they had resolved to try again. Next year. They would find their children and spend precious moments with the Angelitos. They had grown craftier in the following years. They had attempted to entice them to reveal themselves by placing their favourite toys by their graves. Then they had wandered around the cemetery holding them and calling their names. Bianca had started to cry as they recounted their tale to them. The warmth of the little home had suddenly felt cold and uninviting as Bianca cried. Rose felt her own eyes as they had begun to well with tears as this desperate couple just wanted to find their children to interact with them for a few hours before another year passes. Bianca told them that they can no longer rely on the those of the village to help them. They have their own families, their own ancestors to mourn and to reunite with. How could they not help this couple? They were resolved to do it. To spend every single night of Día de Muertos engaged. They would not give up. Which is what had led them to this moment.

Rose twists her hair, pinning it back while she sets the crown of marigolds upon her head. The ruddy reds stand out against her bold, black dress. The skirt flares and she flattens it to make sure it isn't wrinkled. Again, she checks the makeup design she had applied in haste and not entirely satisfied with it but knowing they need to move as the sun is setting, she concedes and follows the lay of the room to the door. Try as she had, she couldn't get the Doctor to agree to any Calaveras make up, though he had complimented hers. Simplistic, with subtle red designs on a white pallet. Though she has to remember not to rub at her eyes because of the black around them – actually she just can't touch her face at all. Her nose suddenly itches. She's not sure if it's subconscious or not but she wiggles her nose to make it go away.

She collects the dolls Bianca had given her, some of Lola's favourites. The Doctor is waiting in the doorway and turns to look at her – a small smile appears on his face. He likes black on her. Is that what the smile is for? Or is it an approving one? Whatever just happened between them, he leads the way and reaches his hand back for hers. She holds on tightly.

When they emerge outside, the sun has cast long shadows before them and the heat has been halved. Orange hues bleed yellow over the horizon. One by one each little house empties as the village comes out of its normal routine dressed in the finest clothing, intricate Calaveras makeup for both men and women and fresh marigolds to adorn each woman's head. Others bend down and light the candles that lead up the front door, encouraging those spirits to come home. And yet still there are some who place the alters outside their front doors – treats, drinks, toys and possessions of those departed are placed with care in order to entice them and to guide them home.

Those who choose not to remain at their homes and wait make the slow progression towards the cemetery. There is music that follows them. Uplifting and cheerful. This is not meant a somber occasion. She and the Doctor listen to the conversation as it floats around them. Some can't believe it's already been another year, others – well they're excited to fill in the details of their lives to those who are not around anymore. Some look for advice on new circumstances in their paths, what should they do? One man wants to make his mark in America but wants to know what his father thinks. Rose is stunned by the casual attitude. This is just like a special meeting that everyone has once a year – a glad time. She turns up to the Doctor who seems equally amazed and happy as she does.

'Isn't this beautiful, Rose?' The Doctor points to the laughter a small group of people exchange with one another. Someone passes by Rose and offers her a white candle that's already been lit and she accepts with a smile.

'I've never seen anything like it.' Rose replies and listens as the music fades out. Almost immediately another song takes its place. The wooden gates of the cemetery come into their vision as they descend the hill. Slowly the sun's final rays have melted into the horizon.

Their procession stops a few feet from the cemetery. The shadows grow longer before disappearing completely, to be replaced with greys as the moon becomes prominent in the skies. Silence falls like a blanket across them, a few people shush one another and their gaze turns back to the cemetery. A mist erupts at the back end of the cemetery, thin at first before it thickens and rolls towards them at a steady pace. Rose and the Doctor exchange uneasy looks but those that flank them lean forward in anticipation, hands clasped together and eager smiles on their faces. Okay, so this is normal. Rose widens her eyes as from the mist she can begin to see figures develop. Shadows dot the mist and after a few moments they emerge. Just as though they were passing through an open door. Perhaps the mist represents the veil, and now it's at its thinnest, those that are behind it pass into the world of the living easy. Some people throw their arms out and almost have a problem restraining themselves, wide grins on their faces.

Something clicks and an older woman hikes the hem of her skirt up in her hands and she rushes towards the gates, pushing them open and dashes for an older man with peppered hair and tired eyes. They embrace tightly. She has tears streaming down her face and he tenderly wipes them away.

Someone calls out _Maria!,_ in a happy voice and frail woman steps forward and is embraced by a woman who is no doubt Maria's mother. Like waves those that have led the way to the cemetery embrace their loved ones. A man proudly shows off a young child to three people, two young and one old. They coo over the baby before the older man hugs the younger one. Those who have not yet been reunited quietly move past the clusters of people and through the gates of the cemetery, guided by the lights along the pathway, they silently make their way back into the cemetery, waiting patiently.

Some do not wait long. The longer Rose watches the families around her gather their departed loved ones, she grows jealous. There are many reunions that she craves desperately. She moves past it, as hard as it is. Her mind wanders on its own. It creates its own scenes in her mind and she's left watching the 'movies' in her mind. There have been too many goodbyes in her time. And not nearly enough hellos.

Soft chatter engulfs them and the Doctor gives her a gentle nudge. She looks up to him and he nods at her. Okay, time to get this mission completed. With good results, of course. She clutches Lola's dolls to her chest. They nod and silently agree to meet by the cemetery gates at dawn. If they are unsuccessful, then they will be out here again the following day. She watches as the Doctor disappears in a flourish through the lingering crowds and disrupting the mist around his feet. She smiles absently as she hears him shouting for either Luis or Lola. As she hikes up the hem of her own skirts, Rose attempts to imagine what she would if she were a small child, confused with how the world looked now that she was no longer a part of it. She imagines that she'd want to stay close to her brother. That is a small shred of familiarity.

Rose is careful to make sure she turns over every possibility in her mind. She tries to look at the sand for smaller footprints but, seeing as there is a wind, the only ones she can see are her own. She moves back onto the stone walkway. She bumps into the spirit of a man as he suddenly appears out of nowhere. She jumps and apologises. He gives an almost vacant stare and Rose swallows her nervousness. She pulls out a picture of Luis and Lola.

'Excuse me…? But have you seen these two children in your…travels…?' Rose acknowledges how odd that sentence is. The man bends his head to get a closer look.

'I saw two small ones that look like those two huddled together in the southwest corner. They seemed reluctant to manifest themselves.' He replies and looks towards the entrance of the cemetery. A small boy is running towards the gate calling out.

'Thank you,' Rose replies and notices the boy has begun to close the gap between them. 'Is that your son?'

The man shakes his head sadly. 'My nephew. I was like a father to him. But…we don't live forever. Better I go first than him.'

'I understand…I'm sorry.' Rose replies and doesn't understand why she is saying she's sorry. The man bends down and scoops the little boy in his arms, raising him up in the air as he squeals in delight. The boy immediately begins chattering away to the man, filling him in on the last year of his life without the man there. The two of them begin to walk away and the man turns over his shoulder.

'Good luck.'

'Thank you…'

Rose presses onwards, heading to the southwest side of the cemetery, hoping that she'd catch a glimpse of them. It would make her night just that little bit better. More people slowly emerge from the mist to take in their surroundings before moving on. A few times she's attempted to engage them, they ignore her. Others are a bit more helpful. Another preteen pointed her to a dead looking tree. She said she thought she heard laughter. Rose stares at the black, gnarled tree before her. Its twisted branches reach for the skies at odd angles and she rubs her arms and presses on. She wonders if the Doctor is having better luck than she is. She's approaching this carefully, cautiously and attempting to put herself in their shoes. She imagines that he's just meandering up to people and asking questions, making friends as he always seems to do. The children may be more adept at trusting him because of his friendly exterior.

Besides, after all they have been through with ghosts the last little while, it's nice to see them as simply spirits. Souls who have come through the veil. There is no malice to their nature, as peculiar as it had been to see a fog rolling towards them at an incredible speed and having spirits emerge from them, it is a sight she will always remember. She has reached the south of the cemetery and directs herself slightly west. It is mostly quiet this far back. The mist lingers around her ankles but is disappearing. The heel of her boot connects with the ravaged stone pathway and announces her presence long before she does. She pauses and listens. Something moves behind her. She catches it out of the corner of her eye darting off to the side.

She must keep an open mind. It won't be like all the other times. It won't. Unsurprisingly there is nothing or no one there. She sighs and walks a few steps towards the corner of the cemetery. Once more she stops. Laughter. A small whine of impatience. A million different scenarios pass her mind. She shakes them off and holds her breath, turning in a small circle. The clouds pass over the moon, as they do so it illuminates the grounds around her.

A small shadow that doesn't belong to her or the objects around her appears beside a faded headstone. She nearly calls out but reigns in her excitement and lowers herself slightly, hoping that it might entice whoever is there to come forward. She pulls out the dolls she had been carrying to sit in her lap and she is unsure of what to say to whoever is there.

'Hello? Is anyone there?' Rose calls softly. There is a little sound of shuffling. What if it's an animal or something? 'It's okay…you can come out…you're safe.'

A new sound behind her. She turns around but sees nothing. She exhales slowly and turns forward. The shadow that had been there is gone. She sighs, assuming she missed her chance, she checks over her shoulder one more time. She isn't surprised when she is met with nothing. Hanging her head, she slowly moves her focus forward and gasps in surprise, falling backwards from the shock.

A pale child, with dark circles under her massive brown eyes stares at her with an amused confusion. Rose tries to calm her heart down a bit and smiles at the girl as she plays with her hair. She's staring at the dolls in Rose's lap and holds her arm out, pointing to them.

'Are you Lola?' Rose ventures and passes one of the dolls to her. She nods her head and hugs the doll to her chest. 'Hi Lola, my name is Rose.'

Lola holds the doll in her left hand and holds out her right one. Rose passes her another doll and she smiles, once again hugging them tightly to her. She peers at Rose over her dolls' heads and remains silent. Rose hopes that she will say something soon. It's making her a little uncomfortable the longer Lola remains silent. A small tug at her skirts causes Rose to look down and see that Lola has seated herself on her skirts that had flowered out around her when she had kneeled down. Taken back Rose realises that she may have to do the majority of the talking for the moment, at least until Lola becomes comfortable around her.

'Do your dolls have names, Lola?' Rose wonders and Lola looks up to her. Still silent, Rose is certain she can see the gears turning on whether or not to provide an answer.

She holds up the more faded of the two dolls. 'Maria,' She pauses and holds up her second doll with the black dress and gold stitching. 'Oro.'

Rose smiles. 'What pretty names. Who gave them to you?'

Hesitation in Lola. She turns up to look at Rose. 'Mama.'

'Your mummy did?'

Lola absently plays with the dolls while avoiding looking at Rose but she does nod. 'Mama…she cried because I was sick. Mama told me not to cry because I would be better soon. I think she was scared. My brother went to sleep the night before and never woke up again. And then I went to sleep. But I woke up. And my brother was with me. He said that we couldn't go back home for a year. But…we got lost. Every time…'

Rose bites her lip and moves to cover Lola's hand with her own but then decides that it might make her uncomfortable. She's appreciative that Lola has been so trusting so quickly but she doesn't want to push it. 'Well, I could help you see your mummy.'

Lola looks up to her. 'That's what other people said too. They said, 'if you hold my hand I'll get you there…' but every time we reached…there was nothing there.'

There is bitterness, a slight hint of it, in Lola's voice. Someone who has constantly been let down. With only her brother to rely on…Rose couldn't blame them for being weary of trusting people. Ever since death, they have attempted to rely on people. She imagines that if she and Luis ever did figure it out, it was more than likely too late. Perhaps they put their feet on the Earth and it was just in time to see all those they had tried to travel with returning from the land of the living. They may have pushed past, looking for their parents, perhaps shouting their names. Others may have looked on in pity, maybe they got out of cemetery but faded not long after.

Three days is enough. Rose is resolved to get her and her brother back to their parents. These children need to be embraced by them and their parents need to see them. After being defeated enough times, they simply stayed where they were, in the shadows because it was safer and there was no point in revealing themselves for people who were not going to be there. It truly was a heart-breaking scene. Bianca and Rodrigo were patiently waiting at home, hoping that if they couldn't find their children that maybe they'd wander to their home instead.

Rose continues to think of something to say to Lola but it falling short. Instead she just attempts to see if perhaps Lola would want to come with her. Lola continues to act out scenes with her dolls, happily engaging in play, Rose wonders when the last time it was that Lola had seemed so pleased.

'Lola, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to see your mum?' Rose tries and Lola continues to play with her dolls for some time before answering her.

'Do you think we could?'

'Of course, I'm sure she'd love to see you.'

'Papa?'

'He'll be there too.' Rose promises and Lola hugs her dolls to her once more while she thinks over Rose's proposal. Finally, she looks up at Rose and her stares moves over Rose's shoulder.

'What about Luis?'

'Do you know where he is? We could all go together.' Rose wonders and becomes hopeful for an answer. Lola is mulling it over and slowly gets up, moving off the comfort of Rose's skirts and peers around her.

'Sometimes he plays games by himself. I don't know where, though.' Lola admits and Rose moves to her feet. She smooths out her skirts and holds her hand out for Lola who grasps on tightly. Her small hand is cold. What did she expect? Nevertheless, Rose holds on tightly and begin to wander the cemetery together.

Strangely she is unable to hear anything. Not even the Doctor. By now the majority of the spirits have left, nothing around but mist and the starry night above them. Rose doesn't know what else to say to Lola. What could she say? She died from cholera – a terrible disease. She doesn't want to evoke memories from her life before she died. What do spirits remember from their time in the void? Everything? Nothing? Why put those questions to one so young?

Having gotten a little turned around, Rose looks down to Lola. 'So, where do we go from here?'

'That way,' Lola points and Rose directs them towards the entrance – hopefully. 'Your calaveras makeup is pretty.'

'Thank you…' Rose smiles at her and Lola nods her head in approval. They walk a bit longer in silence, matched only by the stillness of their surroundings. They pause when laughter is heard. Childish and genuine. Lola smiles. It obviously must be her brother.

A rush of wind passes by them but there is no cause to it and Rose turns in a small circle. Moments later she widens her eyes when the Doctor appears from nowhere, slightly out of breath and pauses by Rose who is staring at him stunned, wondering where he came from.

'Ladies, good evening. Any chance you saw a small boy run by here? We were supposed to be playing Hide and Seek. It has somehow devolved into Tag. I, of course, happen to be it.' He explains and Rose is still silent, unsure how to respond to that.

'You're not chasing me!' A voice complains and Rose whips her stare around to a young boy with a mischievous grin. The Doctor nods.

'Yes, you're right,' The Doctor agrees and begins to run after Luis. And they disappear from sight. 'What happens when I get you?' He is faintly heard wondering. They do not hear a reply.

'Luis loves to play Hide and Seek.' Lola explains and Rose smiles, glad that there is please for them – even for a fleeting moment. They continue to walk towards the entrance. Rose is relieved that for once…things were easy. They happened to be at the right place and the right time.

When they reach the mouth of the cemetery, Rose is smiling when she's greeted with the Doctor carrying Luis on his shoulders and he motions to the dirt road. The music and chatter from the villagers and their loved ones during the reunions fills their ears as they walk towards the children's home.

Luis talks absently to both Rose and the Doctor of their past lives when they were alive and their time stuck in void. They let him talk, he attempts to understand things that being so young, he simply won't comprehend. Rose reaches for the Doctor's hand and holds on tightly. Lola grips her right as well. They are nodded at by those in town, smiles break out on faces of both the living and not when they realise the children have been found.

When a wonderful feeling to know that things happened at a good pace, they were there to help those in need. Luis starts to tell jokes, pick fights with his sister over things they did when they were alive, the normalcy isn't lost on Rose. This three-day event ensures that families are never truly broken. They watch as spirits stop by the alters left for them outside of relatives' homes and pick up offerings left for them.

Sometimes they win some. Those victories come easy though are few and far between. Lola rushes up to the family door and picks up a sweet treat left by her mother as an enticement to come forward. Luis complains and the Doctor sets him down, wrestling the sweet treat obviously meant for him out of Lola's hands.

Rose and the Doctor take a step back as the door opens and a warm candle light ebbs through the darkness. They leave before they are noticed. Those Rose can hear Bianca's sobs of joy long after they leave. The look of utter surprise and relief that had washed over her face in the matter of seconds. Rodrigo's hollers of happiness as he scooped up both his children into a bear hug, burying his face in their hair, praying to god for giving him this gift.

Yeah, this is why they do what they do. Again, the Doctor reaches for Rose's hand as they head into the desert. He takes off his jacket and drapes it around her bare shoulders as the coolness crept into her. Small wins. But that doesn't make them any less memorable.

* * *

'Yeah, I know you've met some amazing people, but so have I…'

Clara pauses at the foot of the door having just flown in as she always does and listens carefully to the insistent voice all around her. The tone is sharp and defensive and she wonders what or who Rose is defending against the Doctor now. Sometimes she gets absolute amusement of watching the two of them bicker back and forth, then again she is also certain that Rose can say the same thing about when the Doctor and herself argue.

'I don't doubt that. You are good are making friends.' Comes the Doctor's reply. She wonders where the two of them are and she takes a seat in a chair, absently spinning around while she waits for the two of them to make an appearance. She's certain that they are in the corridors and making their way towards her.

She has been dying for them to drop by. She had heard the TARDIS appear in her school's courtyard just before she finished up her lessons for the day. In fact, she had just glanced up when she had seen it there – she nearly cried out from excitement. With finals coming up soon and the term ending, she needed a break. He certainly had good timing.

However, she had been caught in conversation with Danny, which, hey, you know she didn't mind in the least. That conversation bloomed into a half hour talk, in the halls while the students slowly ebbed away from them and home for the weekend. They had made plans to go out for coffee on Saturday night. The first of many, so she hopes. She really, really, wants to get to him outside of school. She's heard the rumours from the kids around the halls, they pick and pick at him about his service. Constantly asking whether he's killed anyone…she's very quick to shut that down, breaking up the crowds and dispersing the students, though she heard their lingering comments in the air as they moved away from her. She hopes that those comments never made their way to Danny.

Clara hears their footsteps growing louder as they approach and she wonders what little things they've been talking about now and what they've been up to since she last saw them. She knows that their relationship is different from her own one with the Doctor…she hopes that they've been working to repair it. She imagines the intimate level they have…how often have they rebuild.

'Fitz was such a talented person, sweet and funny when he wasn't drunk. And his wife…his golden girl, his muse, was a woman I was proud to call my friend.'

Clara hears the Doctor exhale a small laugh. 'Yes, right on both counts. How did you meet them?'

'I was attending a party with someone there at a residence in New York in the early 20s, I think just after he published his second novel – maybe the first, and we opened the door, were received by the butler and led into the foyer, a teenaged boy ran by us unexpectedly and she was not far behind him – naked!' Rose cries out, the memory still fresh in her mind. And the Doctor begins to howl with laughter.

'I thought that was a rumour! Unsubstantiated!' The Doctor descends the stairs first but glances over his shoulder at Rose's statement. He holds in his hand a small book, old and worn. Rose isn't right behind him and Clara peers around him but doesn't see Rose, Clara just hears her voice.

'Yeah, well I was there. It was all true! Fitz had to do a lot of damage control after that but they were the golden couple of the 20s and so people forgot, they were young voices of a generation lost. She was just…my god, so unconventional. She taught me how to be a Flapper. I don't think we left one another's sides that night. One of the rare occasions Fitz was out of control and she wasn't.

'They invited me to the Riviera a few days before they left for it. I did join them there on a few occasions. But I could see that Fitz needed to start writing his third novel and she was just so lonely. Hence the affair. She never confirmed it to me but I think more happened between her and the French aviator than she led on. It had to. He worked so many long hours and she was left alone with no one. Maybe that started the bouts of mental illness. I felt terrible I couldn't do more for her. It was hard to watch Fitz be an ass to her. And yet at the same time attempt to help her with all he could. He truly loved her. But maybe it was the idea of her…sometimes I couldn't tell.'

'What could you do, though in respect to her illness? You're in a time where you have to pretend as though you fit in and your knowledge can't betray you,' The Doctor acknowledges, turning the book over in his hands. 'Theirs was an interesting relationship, for all the downs there were incredible highs. I do wish things could have been different for them. Had he not died so young and how she perished in that fire. Two larger than life personalities struck down by the most unfair of circumstances. Then again…that's life, isn't it? Clara!'

'What? Clara's here? Hi Clara!' Rose calls and the Doctor embraces Clara tightly with a large smile on his face. Clara holds on tightly and widens her eyes when Rose descends the stairs, also holding a book in her hand. It's frayed as well, the corners are slightly turned up, an indication the book is old and well loved.

'Rose! The makeup!' Clara gushes and Rose widens her eyes. Her face is done up in such a beautiful intricate skull design. Reds and blacks contrast her face beautifully.

'Oh, I completely forgot I had it on. You start a conversation and look what happens. What…how did this even start?' Rose turns to the Doctor who has walked up to the second level once again and is standing in front of a chalkboard.

'I can't remember…was it something to do about fame and its effect?' The Doctor surmises and Rose shrugs not remembering.

'Where did you guys go last?' Clara questions and notices the rest of Rose's outfit, the marigolds in her hair and the long, black dress.

'Mexico. We celebrated Día de Muertos.' The Doctor explains and begins absently writing things on the chalkboard.

'It was unreal…' Rose agrees and Clara continues to admire the work that went in to her makeup. 'Beautiful, actually.'

'Yes, spirits actually rise up and reunite with loved ones for three days. I've never seen anything quite like it.' The Doctor adds and Clara leans back in her chair and looks at what the Doctor is writing down. It's all just nonsense to her. But she is enthralled by the picture the Doctor is painting with a few short sentences. She'd like to have seen that.

'And then you were talking about authors?' Clara tries to follow their logic and decides against it. They would jump around too much, talking about one thing and then in a sentence one of them speaks about something else and it launches another branch of topic to discuss. Sometimes she's been lost in that conversation before.

'Yes, just not sure how, exactly. My friendship with Fitz…I guess. Do you have a favourite author, Clara?' Rose wonders and leans on the console close to where she's sitting. Clara pauses and attempts to pin point only one. It's too hard. She admires so many. To pick a favourite, would be like shunning the others – though unintentional.

'Well…I'm not sure of an author…but…oh! Doctor, can you take me there? I want to meet him.'

'Who?' The Doctor peers down and Clara is on her feet. But a look of sadness passes her eyes and she shakes her head in defeat.

'Oh…you'll just tell me he isn't real and that he's made up and that there's no such thing.' Clara sighs and the Doctor leans over the rails and motions her to go on. Rose sits back and waits for Clara's reveal. She has several people in mind.

'Go on.' The Doctor encourages and Clara grins at Rose while she rushes up to the gallery level to tell the Doctor.

'It's…it's Robin Hood.' She gushes and hears Rose _ooh_ from below her in approval followed by a small yes.

'Robin Hood?' The Doctor repeats. Clara nods her head excited, a wide grin on her face.

'Yeah, I mean not an author, obviously – I mean not that I know of. But I always loved that story, ever since I was little.' She explains and sees the Doctor's gaze become clouded as though he may have tuned her out.

'Robin Hood, the heroic outlaw, who robs from the rich and gives to the poor.' The Doctor summarises the stories of Robin Hood. Clara nods her head eagerly.

'Yeah.'

The Doctor dismisses her. 'He's made up. There's no such thing.'

'Ah, you see.' Clara points at him accusingly. Rose makes her way up to the gallery as well and flashes the Doctor a look. He doesn't respond, but instead tosses Rose the book he still had in his hand and she leans forward to catch it.

Believing he's put the matter to bed, he moves along the gallery to the bookcase and his eyes quickly scan the collected title there. It isn't where he thought it would be. Rose must have come by here and pulled things out of order and not replaced them correctly. Nevertheless, he finds his book and briefly skims over it. He shakes his head.

'Old fashioned heroes only exist in old fashioned story books, Clara.' The Doctor chides and Rose folds her arms, not particularly fond of the way he's speaking to Clara.

'Hold on, Doctor, don't be so dismissive. Legends are based on people in some capacity. Stories…they all come from somewhere.'

'Yes, someone's imagination.' The Doctor agrees and notices the spoon he'd left there earlier with Rose while they had been perusing the bookcase. He grabs and turns around to see Rose glaring at him.

'Imagination to invent little details. There could have been someone in that time who did champion rights for the poor.'

'No. It's a story. It's meant to distract people from dreary lives.'

'Most people were illiterate.' Rose counters and the Doctor eyes her knowing she's right but doesn't want concede to her.

'Stories endure by word of mouth.' The Doctor points out and Clara feels a fight brewing between them. Though she does appreciate Rose sticking up for her idea.

'Stories are based on events of the time. Someone was real that matches that description and it inspired a writer or it made for good conversation for people to pass on, nevertheless heavily embellished. Though word of mouth can be a little unreliable.' Rose retorts and the Doctor licks something off the metal spoon. Clara shakes her head.

'Rose is right you know. I mean heroes can be real or fictional. Like you.' Clara reveals and the Doctor frowns, again dismissing her with a flick of his wrist. Rose mutters something under her breath and the Doctor points the metal spoon at her, a gesture to her that says he heard that?

'Me?'

'Yeah, you. You stop bad things from happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me.' Clara adds and the Doctor shrugs, obviously not caring about that.

'Sure does sound very fairy-tale like to me.' Rose adds the dig and he turns around. She's giving him a cocky smirk. Coupled with the makeup it does make her rather sinister looking. He decides not to feed into that follows the route of being dismissive.

'Just passing the time,' He reveals absently and then smiles them. 'Hey, what about Mars?'

'What?!' Clara cries in shock at the abrupt switch of gears and the obvious permanent dismissal of her desire. Rose shakes her head.

'No, I need at least thirty-six hours to prep myself before I go to Mars. It's a mess every time I go there.'

'Oh no, the Ice Warrior Hives.' He replies and Rose shakes her head.

'No.'

'You said it was my turn!' Clara protests and the Doctor pauses before they see another idea has crossed his mind.

'Or the Tumescent Arrows of the Half-Light. Those girls can hold their drink. Rose, you'd love them. In fact, I do believe they'd try to challenge you to a drinking game.' The Doctor informs them and Rose really hopes he used tumescent in the pompous way and not…the other definition of it.

'Next time…' Rose tells him and he shakes his head.

'Doctor.' Clara folds her arms and he overlooks her, still focusing on Rose's

'And fracture fifteen different levels of reality simultaneously. I think I've got a Polaroid somewhere…'

'Doctor!' Clara calls to him in an attempt to get him to refocus on her. He finally pauses and looks over to her. 'My choice. Robin Hood. Show me.'

He lifts his gaze to Rose who is smirking at him. Knowing that he has lost this battle – though perhaps not the war – he obediently heads down to the console, followed by Clara and then Rose. Since he knows that if he refused to take Clara, even though it would be to save her from disappointment, Rose would only commandeer the TARDIS and them there herself.

He sets the coordinates and Clara eagerly waits, beaming at the Doctor when he lowers his stare to her. 'Earth. England. Sherwood Forest. 1190AD. Ish. But you'll only be disappointed.'

His mind wanders back to his time in the Twelfth Century. Meeting Richard the Lionheart at the Crusades and in the distance his mother Eleanor. A privilege to meet her in her prime with Rose all those years later. Speaking of Rose, he hasn't seen her wander off to get dressed and cleaned up from the makeup that lingers. Sometimes it bothers him that they can fall into arguments so quickly like that. Though he does applaud her for speaking her mind and defending Clara. Even though he's certain there will be no one of the description that matches Robin Hood, it's good that they're sticking together.

Perhaps too close. Clara has disappeared too. He frowns but shakes it off.

The TARDIS lands close to a hearty stream, just slightly up the slope and when he checks the scanner quickly he sees that it certainly is a nondescript forest. A massive log has been placed across the stream, a few birds pass by the scanner, singing. Things look to be going in his favour. He opens the TARDIS door and peers out, inhaling the fresh scent of the woodiness from the forest, a smell that always pleases him. The warm sun breaks through the canopy of trees and dots the ground before with spots of the sun. He is pleased with what he sees. Not checking to see if either Clara or Rose has appeared behind him, he steps out and folds his arms.

'No damsels in distress, no pretty castles, no such thing as Robin Hood.' He declares assuredly. No sooner have the words left his mouth when an arrow pierces the side of the TARDIS just next to him. The Doctor stares at it stunned. He looks around for the source of the arrow and finds that a figure dressed all in green has emerged from behind a tree trunk. Just on the other side of the stream.

The Doctor doesn't want to admit it but this man does cut quite a resemblance to a certain fabled character, who shoots arrows. One who not only shoots arrows but shoots arrows at his TARDIS right after declaring that no figure such as this man existed. He hates being proven wrong in public. What's that word that Rose always uses? Karma.

'You called?' The man wonders loudly and winks at the Doctor who finds himself unable to stop his mouth from dropping open due to surprise. The man has shoulder length blond hair tied back and mischievous eyes. The Doctor quickly attempts to come to his senses and convince this stranger – before the girls appear – to drop the guise of Robin Hood. The man motions to the TARDIS and nods approvingly. 'Very, very nicely done with the box, sir. I saw a Turk perform something very similar at Nottingham Fayre.'

Annoyed, the Doctor removes the arrow from the TARDIS and runs his finger over the hole left behind. As he draws his hand back, the hole vanishes and the TARDIS is repaired.

'You…' The Doctor begins and the man has interrupted again.

'It's a trick with mirrors, no doubt?'

'A trick?' The Doctor repeats and the man nods once.

'A good jest. Ha, ha!' He begins to laugh and the Doctor shakes his head, already rather annoyed with this man's visage.

'This is not a trick. This is a TARDIS.' The Doctor explains but the meaning is evidently lost on the man as he points to the TARDIS with a stern look.

'Whatever it is, you bony rascal, I'm afraid I must relieve you of it.'

The Doctor stares at the man. 'It's my property, that's what it is.'

'Well, don't you know all property is theft to Robin Hood?' The man wonders and walks towards the Doctor before stopping in the middle of the log bridge, thankfully without his bow and arrows. Those could have hurt. The Doctor folds his arms and rolls his eyes.

'You're not serious.'

'I'm many things, sir, but I'm never that. Robin Hood laughs in the face of all. Ha, ha, ha.' The man, still insistent on being Robin Hood declares and the Doctor grows impatient with both the man's refuse to drop the act and his pompous ego.

'And do people ever punch you in the face when you do that?' The Doctor wonders tersely and Robin shakes his head once, though a thoughtful gaze falls over him.

'Not as yet.'

The Doctor smirks. 'Lucky I'm here then, isn't it?'

They are distracted again as the door to the TARDIS open and shuts and Clara comes running out to join the Doctor at the foot of the log bridge dressed in a red, velvet styled dress most common in Medieval times. Her sleeves are long and cut away with a thin girdle around her hips. The dress has gold stitching throughout which contrasts nicely with not only the red of the dress, but Clara's dark locks. Her silver band, ornamental head piece runs across her forehead in a thin design and is held in place by her either side of her head. She gathers the sides of her dress in either hand and holds it out.

'Might be a little bit much, but what do you reckon, Doctor?' Clara wonders and smiles. The Doctor doesn't answer her as Clara's gaze is diverted the moment Robin speaks from shock.

'By all the saints…are there any more in there?' He questions breathlessly and Clara widens her eyes and her jaw drops. So many emotions and thoughts race around her mind.

As if on cue the door opens once more and Rose steps out, not really looking ahead but behind her. She lifts her left leg and readjusts her ankle boot before setting it down and smooths down her pants. The Doctor can see that she's no longer wearing the calaveras makeup – good, it'd frighten the locals – but her cheeks are hued rouge from where she's obviously scrubbed. Unlike Clara, Rose of course is going for a more functional look. Black leggings, boots, forest green tunic – she must have done that on purpose – and a short black denim jacket. Her hair is swept off to the side in a fish tail braid and she trots to catch up to them. The Doctor looks away hoping to not have been caught staring at her.

'Oh, Rose, you didn't go for the purple one?' Clara wonders, shaking herself from her trance for the briefest of moments, and both the Doctor and Robin become engrossed in a conversation they weren't privy to begin with.

'No…I just wanted…functionality.'

'Your women are…beauties.' Robin comments and the Doctor sighs. Rose and Clara stare wide eyed at the man on the bridge.

'They're not my women.' The Doctor protests and Clara grabs his arm in shock as she attempts to gather her thoughts. Somewhat.

'Is that?' She breathes but doesn't finish her sentence. The Doctor is already shaking his head – refusing to accept it.

'No.'

'Oh my god. Oh, my god!' Clara begins hitting the Doctor's arm in amazement, she's doing it so fast that he doubts she realises she's even doing it. 'You found him! You actually found Robin Hood.' She feels herself blushing the happier she gets. Also the giddier she is feeling herself become too. She's meeting her literary hero.

'Wow…Doctor, I must say…' Even Rose trails off unable to finish her sentence, and is in awe of this man's magnificent history. So suave and debonair. She twists the end of her braid.

'That is _not_ Robin Hood.' The Doctor insists firmly, growing weary of this mess, and Robin smirks at him, motioning to the TARDIS.

'Well then, who, sir, is about to relieve you of your magic box?' Robin wonders firmly and he reaches to the sword that his sheathed on his left. He draws it the moment the Doctor walks onto the bridge. Rose punches the bridge of her nose.

'Oh no. Please don't.' Rose begins but doesn't address either man, so the Doctor takes it as a general warning but true to fashion, disregards it.

'Nobody, sir. Not in this universe or the next.' The Doctor states confidently and Robin nods his head in understanding, knowing what will happen next. He points the sword at the Doctor.

'Well then, draw your sword and prove your words.' Robin insists and Rose walks up to the Doctor and places her hand on his shoulder.

'Do you want me to take care of this? Though I don't want to go down in history as the person who defeated Robin Hood.' Rose offers and the Doctor shakes his head at her. Rose frowns and back away, wondering how in the world he'll talk himself out of a sword battle. He'll find a way. He always does.

'This man is not Robin Hood,' He reminds her and Rose gives him a flat look. 'And to your request, sir…I have no sword. I don't need a sword.'

'Oh my god…' Rose mutters and laces her fingers behind her head, pacing off her disbelief. Clara watches stunned as the Doctor opens up his coat to prove to Robin that he has nothing though he does reach into an inner pocket to retrieve something.

'Because I am the Doctor,' He states confidently and dons a gauntlet. 'And this is my spoon. En garde!'

They rush one another and trade thrusts, the sword connecting with the spoon makes an odd sound that somehow trivialises what they're doing. Maybe that's the point. Rose continues to pace off her frustration while Clara watches enthralled. Mainly because for a spoon, it is holding up rather well against a sword. As they pass one another, the Doctor hits Robin on the back of the neck and Robin frowns while letting out a hiss of pain.

'Ow!'

'You're amazing.' Clara calls to the Doctor and he smirks at her.

'I've had some experience. Richard the Lionheart. Cyrano de Bergerac. Errol Flynn. He had the most enormous-…' The Doctor is interrupted as Clara clears her throat loudly. 'Ego.'

'Takes one to know one.'

'Ha!' Rose's laughter erupts from a spot in the trees and Clara looks up, seeing a leg dangling from above her she shields her eyes from the sun to see Rose lounging, reclined and observing from her spot. 'That's a good one, Clara.'

'Thanks!'

The Doctor manages to slap Robin's backside and he grows frustrated. 'See, Rose, I can hold my own.'

'I shouldn't have doubted you…' Rose replies absently and holds her hand out in front of her, inspecting her nails. 'Shift a bit to your left. You're too close to the end.'

'Yes, thank-…' The Doctor is cut short by Robin retaliating for the earlier hit and thrusting the sword forward, managing to cut a button off the Doctor's coat. It pings off the long and drops into the stream. There is a pause.

'Not quick enough…'

'Rose, I don't need a play by play.' The Doctor comments and Clara stifles a laugh, looking up to Rose who winks at her.

'Then hurry up and win…' Rose counters and the Doctor looks up and over his shoulder where he sees her hanging down and grinning at him.

'This sort of thing takes tact, my dear Rose.'

'Sir, if we could finish this standoff so that you lose and I may take your box…' Robin complains and the Doctor nods his head at him.

'But of course!' He stands and holds his arms wide open and without blinking, Robin lunges towards the Doctor with his sword extended in front of him. The Doctor deflects Robin's attack and while Robin is still bent over forward, the Doctor does a little turn so that he and Robin are back to back on the trunk. Seconds pass but neither of them make the first move.

Finally, the Doctor hip checks Robin abruptly causing him to lose his balance and he tumbles into the stream with a loud splash.

Clara is on her feet horrified and stomps angrily to the bank and then glares up at the Doctor. 'Doctor!'

He disregards her and polishes his spoon as he basks in his victory. Rose jumps from the tree and lands softly, putting her hands on her hips as she shakes her head at the Doctor. He looks at her and shrugs.

'What? Like I said. My box.' He tells her firmly and Rose is pointing to the waters of the stream. He does become slightly concerned that maybe that imposter hit his head in the tumble and drowned. This is why he can never enjoy his victories. Even Clara looks where Rose is pointing in surprise. At least that's what that second of visible emotion on her face revealed.

'Doctor?' Clara calls and he sighs. Obviously, they are concerned and so he too glances into the stream with them. Surprised isn't a work he can think of because strange replaces it. Robin is not there. Frowning he turns to the girls to see Rose's glance has shifted. She presses her lips together and he turns around to see Robin standing behind him with a cheeky grin.

The Doctor only manages to take one step back before Robin pushes him into the stream as retaliation. A split second goes by before Clara bursts out laughing and Robin joins her in laughter. He struts off the log and towards Clara while Rose folds her arms and watches the Doctor sit up. He looks up at her stunned and Rose observes Robin and Clara happily chatting away as they amble through the clearing. Rose shakes her head and carefully slides down the embankment and offers her hand to him. But it's muddy and she can feel her boots sinking slightly. The Doctor grips her forearm and she attempts to tug him up and what he does next – she still doesn't know if it was on purpose or not, a terrible attempt at being playful – he tugs her a bit too hard and she falls into the stream as well.

She sits up and stares at him stunned, water streaming down her face and soaking her entirely through as she clears the water from her face and eyes. She grows annoyed with his stupid, gloating grin and she shoves him back, he falls and is submerged again. She pulls herself out in a huff while he sits up and watches her wring out her shirt before stomping off to join Clara and Robin.

'Oh Rose! Don't be like that, come on! Come back! Have a little fun!' He calls after her as he stands up and heads towards the embankment.

* * *

Rose stands in the streaming sunlight of a small gully, arms folded and glaring at the Doctor who is equally cross looking as he studies the band of men that Robin has assembled before them, all have genuine grins on their faces as they study the new comers. The Doctor leans into Rose and she is still immensely annoyed with him for getting her wet so she keeps herself rigid.

'How much do you think he pays them to hang around?' The Doctor wonders and Rose frowns at his assessment.

'These people are not actors, Doctor. I think it's obvious from the…rustic dwellings.' Rose replies seriously and he gives her a look that says he's not buying it.

Indeed, the gully is surrounded by tranquil nature, the thieves' hideout is shallow caves that look fairly inconspicuous to the naked eye. She feels as though she should know all of this as who hasn't read the legend of Robin Hood when they were children. She's snapped from her thoughts when Robin beckons her over to meet the men in his band. Robin puts his arm around a man of his height and smiles brightly.

'Let me introduce you to my men. This is Will Scarlet. He is a cheeky rogue with a good sword arm and a slippery tongue.'

'My lady,' He bends down in front of Rose and she smiles at him. He winks at her. Will then turns to Clara as well, bowing. 'My lady,' He straights up in a flash and his hand goes to his head. The Doctor is analysing hair he's taken from Will's head and is scanning it with the sonic. 'Ow! What do you want with my hair?'

The Doctor shakes his head in surprise. 'Well, it's realistic, I'll give you that.'

Robin eyes the Doctor but presses onward anyway. He moves to a man dressed in monk's attire. 'And this is Friar Tuck. Aptly named for the amount of grub he tucks into.' Robin explains and the two man laugh together.

'You skinny blackguard,' Tuck goes to bow to Rose and Clara but nearly falls forward and Rose rushes to push him back up by the shoulders. 'Ah, thank you, my dear,' He turns behind him to see what he might have stumbled on, only to see the Doctor holding one of his sandals. 'What are you doing?'

The Doctor holds the sandal up in obvious triumph. Clara feels her mouth drop and Rose glares at him. 'This isn't a real sandal.'

Tuck folds his arms angrily. 'Yes, it is.'

The Doctor sniffs it and pulls his head back sharply. 'Oh. Yes, it is.'

Tuck swipes the sandal back promptly and puts it back on his foot. Robin moves on quickly to a man who is holding a lute carefully in his arms. He smiles brightly as Rose and Clara who return his smile warmly. Again Robin puts his arm around the musician's shoulders. 'This is Alan-a-Dale. He's a master of the lute, whose music brightens up these dark days.'

Rose and Clara exchange looks. Dark days? They both immediately focus on that part of his sentence. It makes sense. The Sherriff of Nottingham, whose tyrannical rule over Nottingham is bleak for those who live here. Hence Robin's presence. Something of a symbol for those oppressed to look up to.

Alan begins to sing to them as he strums the lute expertly. 'Strangers you are welcome here, in Sherwood's bonny glade. Ow!'

Rose's hands fly to her mouth as the Doctor has just jabbed some kind of hypodermic needle into Alan's neck. He pulls away and claps Alan on the back in appreciation. Alan merely looks at the Doctor surprised.

'Sorry, sorry, sorry. Blood analysis,' He explains and then widens his eyes and shakes his head. Pft, musicians and their fans. It's no wonder the result is anything but foreboding doom for this man. 'Oh. All those diseases. If you were real, you'd be dead in six months.'

Alan pales slightly. 'I am real.'

The Doctor smirks at him. 'Bye.'

'Doctor…' Rose warns and moves on with Robin and Clara to a very tall man, broad shouldered man with bushy dark hair. Rose can almost see the pride that exudes off of Robin as his introduces this man, though he needs little introduction after all.

'And this is John Little. Called Little John. He's my loyal companion in many an adventure.' Robin explains and the man smiles at them before he abruptly steps aside and a small man jumps forward at the girls to general merriment. Rose and Clara jump back from surprise and fall into laughter along with the rest of the men.

'Oh!' Clara breathes and turns towards Will as he joins them.

'Works every time.'

Clara glances to Rose who holds the same kind of awed wonder in her eyes as she does. It is incredible that they are meeting these legendary heroes. Oh, Clara wants to just sit around with them and listen to all their wonderful adventures of sticking it to the Sherriff of Nottingham.

'Oh, I cannot believe this,' Clara gushes, clasping her hands together, and fully takes in the image all of Robin's men cut alongside him. 'You, you really are Robin Hood and his Merry Men.'

Robin widens his eyes at her and nods his head approvingly. 'Aye! That is an apt description. What say you, lads?'

'Aye!' They chime in unison and dissolve into laughter. Having grown thoroughly annoyed with the farce that this man is feeding to both Rose and Clara – both of whom are falling for this nonsense - and the fact that he seems to have found a number of men of apt description to fill the roles of the legend, he marches towards them hoping to put an end to their free-spirited attitude, hoping the girls will finally see sense if he can trap them in a lie.

'Stop laughing. What are you always doing that? Are you all simple or something?' The Doctor wonders exasperated and notices a goblet sitting nearby. He snatches it on his way up to Robin and dumps the contents. 'I'm going to need a sample.'

Robin frowns. 'Of what?'

Rose intercepts them and holds the Doctor at arm's length of Robin. She gives Robin an apologetic look and places her hand on his arm. 'I'm so sorry, would you please excuse us? Clara…' Rose nods to her and Clara stands beside Robin as they watch Rose lead the Doctor away from everything by the front of his shirt.

'What? What'd I say?' They can hear him wondering and Rose turns over her shoulder to him.

'You need to shut up…you're embarrassing Clara and I!'

Robin watches the two of them dissolve into an argument and he leans into Clara. 'Your friend seems not quite of the real world.'

 _Which one…_ Clara nearly answers but assumes he meant the Doctor, who is being less than polite. 'No. No, he's really not. Not most of the time.'

'Rose - is she his ward…or the other way round, perhaps? A guardian?'

'Fitting title for her. Professional babysitter sometimes…no, we're all friends. We just take turns holding his leash…' Clara explains and turns up to Robin who is nodding at her. 'Dark days?'

Robin frowns. 'My lady?'

'You said these were dark days. What did you mean?'

'King Richard is away on crusade, my lady. His tyrant of a brother rules instead.' Will explains and Clara begins to fit the pieces together.

'And the Sheriff. Cause there is a Sheriff, right?' Clara struggles to keep the excitement out of her voice. These are trying times for people, she can't be seen as excited in their pain.

'Aye,' Alan replies and Clara stifles her glee. 'It is indeed this jackal of princes who seeks to oppress us for ever more.'

'Or six months in your case.' The Doctor casually responds as he strolls by Alan. Again, he pales at the mention of his supposed death. Even if it isn't by a soothsayer…the conviction in his man's voice and assured tone make him believe that this Doctor is truly telling him the truth. What would he gain from a lie?

'Oi! What'd I just get through telling you?' Rose calls to him and he shrugs his shoulders. Rose isn't sure anything got through to him, it usually doesn't when he's on an ego power trip. He will stop at nothing to prove himself right. Even if it's plainly evident that he's wrong.

Robin claps his hands together, hoping to dispel the blanket of misery that has descended upon the gully, for he can't stand a morose nature. 'It is shame to dwell on murky thoughts when there is such beauty here.'

Clara studies him. 'Why are you so sad?'

Robin frowns. 'Why do you think me sad?'

Clara looks over her shoulder to ensure that the Doctor is fully engaged in something else. He is, he's rummaging through things with Rose keeping him on a short leash as she engages with Will. The Doctor can't hear what Clara will say next. 'Because the Doctor's right, you laugh too much.'

Robin sighs as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders by allowing another in on his shameful secret. 'You know, I do not live this outlaw life by choice. You see before you Robert. Earl of Loxley,' He pauses and frowns when Clara utters his title with him in unison. 'Yes…'

'Yes…' Clara mimics, and widens her eyes from shock at her attitude. 'Sorry. Do go on.'

'I er, I had my lands and titles stripped from me. I dared speak out against Prince John. But I lost the thing most dear to me.' Robin looks away and thinks of his lost love.

'What was she called?' Clara inquires politely, though she knows exactly who it is he longs for.

Robin gives her a sympathetic look. 'You're so very quick. How does the Doctor stand it?'

Ignoring his comment, Clara pushes onward, wanting to hear the legend come straight from the source. 'Marian?'

Robin widens his eyes, excited by the possibility that he could be meeting an acquaintance of Marian's, he could use her to pass along a message. Or two. 'You know her?'

'Oh yes,' Clara breathes. 'I have always known her.'

'It was Marian who told me that I must stand up and be counted. But, I was afraid…' Robin trails off and looks away from Clara. His eyes shift around the forest where he draws his strength from and is renewed. He motions to the trees. 'Now this green canopy is my palace and the rough ground my feather bed. Maybe one day I will return home, but until that day. Until that day, it is beholden on me to be the man Marian wanted, to be a hero for those this tyrant sheriff slaughters.'

The Doctor appears behind Robin. 'What time is it, Mister Hood?'

Robin directs his gaze to the sun and pauses for a moment. 'Somewhat after noon.'

'No, no. Time of year? What season?' The Doctor specifies.

'Oh, Dame Autumn has draped her mellow skirts about the forest, Doctor. The time of mists and harvest approaches.' Robin explains and Clara clasps her hands together in front of her.

The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'Yeah, yeah. All very poetic. But it's very green hereabouts, though, isn't it? Like I said, very sunny.'

'So?' Clara wonders exasperated and Rose's interest are suddenly roused. He makes a fair point.

'I think what the Doctor means, Clara is it's too…lush, too vibrant to be autumn. Too green. Where are the mellow golds and reds we know autumn to be about?' Rose offers and Clara gives her a look that says, oh no, not you too. You're on his side now?

'Yeah, I mean, have you been to Nottingham?' The Doctor adds and Clara folds her arms.

'Climate change?' She replies sarcastically and the Doctor eyes her/

'It's 1190.'

Robin has been listening to their odd argument before he realises that he's lost track of time and will be late to his next engagement with the Sheriff. 'You must excuse me. The Sheriff has issued a proclamation and tomorrow there is to be a contest to find the best archer in the land. And the bounty, it's an arrow made of pure gold.'

Clara grabs his arm and shakes her head. 'No! Don't, don't go. It's a trap!'

Robin pats Clara's hand affectionately. 'Well, of course it is! But a contest to find the best archer in the land? There is no contest.' He assures her and there is an eruption of laughter amongst Robin and his men. The Doctor frowns and stares at them.

'Right, that isn't even funny. That was bantering. I am totally against bantering.' He states seriously and Rose flings him a look.

'What are you so up in arms about?' Rose finally wonders and Clara nods her head.

'Yeah? How can you be so sure he is not the real thing?' Clara counters and the Doctor shakes his head.

'Because he can't be.'

'When did you stop believing in everything?' Clara wonders desperately and Rose folds her arms as she waits for his response.

'When you start believing in impossible heroes?'

Clara shakes her head sadly at him, however he seems to miss her look. 'Don't you know? In a way, it's rather sweet.'

The Doctor takes a bite into an apple he's found before pausing and running the sonic over it multiple times, carefully and thoroughly, inspecting it. Rose rolls her eyes at him.

'This isn't Snow White, it's not a poison apple.' She informs him, only semi seriously. The Doctor looks over to her, obviously unaware of her sarcasm.

'How do you know? Robin Hood is real, what's to say Snow White isn't?'

'You're being ridiculous. Besides, this is Nottingham, not Germany. And it's a legend, not a fairy tale. You're obsessing over this too much.'

'Or maybe not enough. Doesn't it bother you?'

'No, legends are different. There is some historical fact to legends.' Rose repeats, desperately and the Doctor motions around him.

'It's autumn, Rose. And look. Green and vibrant as any day in the summer.' The Doctor points to various spots in the forest. She folds her arms.

'I agree, that is odd. We should find out, but for god sake, leave Robin out of this. There is no correlation…' Rose pauses and narrows her eyes before widening them, as though she's just discovered something. 'Oh…oh I get it now.'

'What? Have I missed something?'

'Yes. Yes you have. I mean, I thought I was stupid for thinking it but…no. You're jealous.' Rose points accusingly to him and the Doctor instantly is shaking his head, refuting her claims, shocked that she'd even suggest that.

'Excuse me? Jealous? Of what?'

'Yes, of what Doctor? Can't handle another man having a massive ego like yourself?' Rose smirks at him and he stares at her as though she's lost her mind. 'Why don't you like him?'

The Doctor watches her walk towards him with a concerned look on her face. 'I don't not like him.'

'You're making it plainly obvious…' She counters evenly and he looks away from her. 'Can you not stand sharing the spotlight with someone else?'

'Not at all, I share it with you and Clara all the time.'

'Oh, don't you bring Clara and I into this. You just seem to be genuinely annoyed with his…existence. Because you don't like to be proven wrong,' Rose tilts her head when the Doctor looks away from her, silent but obviously angry. Rose places her hand on his cheek and forces him to look at her. 'There is nothing wrong with jovial people…just…try to be a little more patient and accepting…'

The Doctor is silent as Rose carefully embraces him. He doesn't understand why she's chosen to show affection now in front of all these people so maybe that's why he doesn't reciprocate her affections. She must take a hint because she slowly pulls away from him but he can see that there is hurt in her eyes and her cheeks burn from embarrassment. She nods her head but he believes that it is more for her own confirmation as she presses her lips together before the realisation hits her that her actions had been unwarranted. He doesn't like making her feel small.

She reaches down and takes his hand quickly squeezing it before letting go and turning to walk away from him. She says nothing else. Maybe he should have said something, but didn't know what. He should have at least put his arms around her…but he didn't even do that. Maybe she thought they had something in Mexico. That they truly had bonded…what was keeping him from that now? What holds him back from her?

The thought bothers him immensely as he watches her from a distance. Alas he has no answer at this moment.

* * *

They followed Robin and his men through the forestry glen and around the countryside, beautiful as it had been. A simpler time, the sun shone brightly and the brightness of their surroundings almost made Rose feel as though they were walking through a painting of the English countryside. Clara and Robin talk at length on their travel towards the castle. They laugh often, and joined by his men as well. The general jovialness will not be spoiled by the Doctor's reluctance to partake. Indeed, even Rose hangs back to allow Clara to have sufficient time to get to know her hero. Rose continues to absently twirl the leaf she picked off a tree in her hand, off in her own thoughts about what she's encountered so far, and wonders if the Doctor is right. That there is something a little odd about things in Nottingham.

Indeed, she knows that Robin is deflecting something, as much as she hates to admit it, the Doctor had been right. He's too happy. What is he hiding? Or what is he running from? The problem is that how much of what she or Clara or the Doctor know is truly myth and what is reality. Robin Hood is real. So are his men. There is a Sheriff of Nottingham. Which must mean there is a fair lady named Marian. Is everything in the legends true? It isn't as though they can come out and ask.

Most of her own thoughts are trying to avoid talking about the obvious slight she and the Doctor had earlier. She thought they were moving past all their discomforts. It seems as though they had taken one giant step backward. She tries not to dwell on it – after all what good would it do – but she can't help but feel…depressed. Sad that they're not recovering from this as fast as they normally would. She tries not to grow fearful…she's giving him as much space as he needs, there is just a nagging little voice in her mind that tells her he is tired of their relationship. That he wants things to go back to the way they were ten years ago. And she's got to be okay with that.

Which she doesn't really have a choice. It hurts but if that's what needs to happen, then so be it. Perhaps this is another opportunity for her to also take a break. She's kept in close contact with all of her own associates. She's talked with Jack every day or nearly every day…could her 'vacation' be finally reaching an end? Is it time for her to take a break of travelling with him and start to piece back together the life she had before their run in? It was her life. She loved every second of it, still does – loves what she does.

She doubts highly he'd notice if she were gone. He would give a dismissal of his hand and tell her goodbye, to call if she wanted to join Clara and himself on an adventure. She can picture the scene too well in her mind. A black bag would be at her feet – they wouldn't hug because it makes him uncomfortable – so she'd just wave, he'd nod her way and shut the door. The TARDIS would be gone before she could take a deep breath. He wouldn't stay long to see the hurt in her eyes. She would have made a choice and while he wouldn't lose sleep over the thought, she would.

That's why she's stuck. To stay or to go? Not forever…at least…she doesn't think so. Huh. There's that inkling to dye her hair again. Her look is becoming stale with her. Her blonde hair is too long. Nearly as long as when their first met. She almost craves her chestnut locks again. Not copper – those became brassy – but true chestnut. She can feel it. A change is brewing. No point in attempting to avoid whatever is coming their way. Or more specifically, hers. Maybe everyone needed a break to appreciate what they had when they no longer have it.

'My good lady Rose. Clara says you have a gallant tale to regale me with. Something involving a whip and a man who could not control his words…?' Robin calls to her and Rose is shaken from trying to plan the next months of her life. She trots up from her spot at the very back and doesn't look at the Doctor who is eyeing her suspiciously. And then rolls his eyes when Robin laughs.

He had tried to walk with her. They walked in silence. It wasn't a good one. They have had loads of those. No. This one was stifling. Awkward. And unlike them. Any conversation they attempted died. Coupled with awkward, strained smiles. She gave him a look that questioned what they were doing. He didn't know. So he moved on. Looking back that might not have been the most appropriate thing to do. He knows he's supposed to feel something deep for her. And sometimes he does. And then sometimes he doesn't. It should scare him. And yet not in the measure it should.

That woman who walks ahead of him, whose hair is so brightly yellow in the sunshine used to be his world. A feeling that was felt, harboured, treasured and loved for regenerations…suddenly is stale. And he wonders what is wrong with him for thinking that. Will that feeling come back, maybe it's just buried with other things he's working through. He can see in her eyes how much he means to her…and he isn't entirely certain he conveys that back. Sure they move with fluidity together, there is no one he trusts more to have by his side. Their partnership is legendary. He knows that. Together they accomplish the impossible. Always have.

He replays the last moments of his previous regeneration in his mind. The way she burst through the TARDIS door, her frantic fear and relief when she saw him as he still once had been. Her fears of being disliked by this version after they slept together for the final time…and he knows he isn't quelling those fears but giving her tender affection and words – like in Mexico – and then acting cold and aloof to her in other scenarios. If he keeps sending her mixed signals…he may lose her forever. He doesn't want that. Perhaps the question he should be asking is what does he want from himself out of this regeneration. Where does she fit in? In what capacity? If she chooses to leave…would he stop her? Would he feel her absence? Would he care?

He continues to look at the back of her head. It serves to confuse him more. To stir around the complex feelings he already has for her. How can he make this right with her? Is it too late? Do they need to talk about this? Is he making a big deal of this? Is she? She hasn't really voiced her concerns. Then again…she didn't have to. Her eyes are too expressive.

After this is done, he will take her somewhere and they will talk about this. They have to. He feels as though it's a dark cloud looming above them. There won't be any more time to think on it, for it appears they have arrived at their destination.

A fine castle that is built on castle rock nestled close to the river that is surrounded by the city. One which is bustling with activity. A final push to get the chores done so that the townsfolk can watch the contest. They believe their hero will appear to best the Sheriff at this contest. How right they are. Crowds of people push past them and into a central ward of the castle, excited whispers surround them.

Their little group blends in with other contestants for this prize as those who are not participating take their seats in the large wooden stands. Cheers constantly erupt as more people fill in to join the contest. Rose leans into Clara and whispers something the Doctor doesn't catch and both their gazes turn to Robin. They move off to the side as those who are involved start at a spot in the field. The targets are pushed forward by knights in heavy suits of armour. Rose watches them carefully, there is something a little uncomfortable about their mechanised movements.

A man dressed in expensive looking velvet steps forward and announces the Sheriff to obligatory cheers, then goes down the line of men. When finished, he then announces the rules slowly, the men participating nod carefully and the Sheriff – a man who looks snake like and slimy, with dark hair and beard and covered in jewels of gemstones and gold – takes the first shot. A bullseye easily. Some local shoots next. He hits the target but is not in the centre. Robin winks at Clara while he shoots off his arrow. Dead centre. Another local attempts to hit the target but misses.

Round after round is moved through at quiet the speed. Local townspeople are easily knocked out amidst the groans and sighs of the crowds, until there are only two people left. Which shocks no one. Robin and the Sheriff. The Herald steps forward.

'In the contest for the golden arrow, after ten rounds, the battle is betwixt our Lord Sheriff,' The Herald pauses and after a few seconds an obligatory cheer erupts. It quickly dies off. 'And the stranger known as Tom the Tinker.'

Robin gets a rousing reception and it causes the Sheriff to narrow his eyes. The man was a fool if he thinks by trying a lousy disguise that he wouldn't be noticed. Still he admires the thief's courage.

'Perhaps not such a stranger after all.' The Sheriff mutters and the Herald clears his throat.

'Take your places.' He instructs but Robin smirks at the Sheriff.

'Shall we make the contest a little more interesting, my Lord? The targets seem a little close. What say you? Another twenty paces?' Robin offers and the Sheriff easily jumps at the bait. Rose rolls her eyes. She can see this is going to devolve into a pissing contest.

'Why not?' The Sheriff agrees and waves his hand. The knights push the target back to the agreed upon spot. The knights barely move before the Sheriff draws his arrow back and releases it. It easily slides through the air before striking the bullseye dead centre. He looks over to Robin. 'Now, Tinker. Let us see thy true face.'

Robin doesn't answer but instead draws his own arrow and releases it, it slices through the air and splits the Sheriff's arrow down the centre. The crowds gasp from amazement. Even Rose and Clara feel their mouths drop open. The Herald stares wide eyed.

'Ye Gads! He has split the arrow! Truly, he is the finest archer in all England. Come forward, Tinker. And claim your prize.' The Herald declares and Robin smugly smirks at the Sheriff as he walks towards the Herald. However, just as Robin reaches out for the golden arrow, another arrow splices through the air, this one has multi-coloured feathers and splits Robin's arrow in half. Clara and Rose turn over to where the arrow was fired from and Rose crosses her arms.

'Really?' She wonders rhetorically and notices a quiver and bow that have been left on the ground. She picks it up and studies them.

Little John leans into Clara who is staring at him with an angry glare. 'He's full of surprises, isn't he?'

'I'm the Doctor. My skills as a bowman speak for themselves. I claim my reward,' The Doctor announces and the Herald stares wide eyed at him before he rushes to the Doctor and kneels, holding the plush pillow where the arrow rests upon it up to his face. The Doctor picks it up and studies its heftiness before shrugging and tossing it towards the Merry Men. 'A mere bauble. I want something else.'

The Sheriff walks towards the Doctor intrigued by him and smirks. 'Name it.'

'Enlightenment.'

The cracking sound interrupts their negotiations and the Sheriff and the Doctor turn over to see that Robin has fired another arrow and again it split down the middle. The crowds erupt into boisterous cheers. The Doctor lets loose another arrow which he ricochets off a knight's armour and it splits down the centre. Clara rolls her eyes as the crowd cheers louder. There's quiet the pile of arrow splinters gathered on the ground. Robin glares at the Doctor while he fires another arrow. He isn't looking but still hits his target.

'This is getting silly.' The Doctor comments and everyone turns to stare at the person who fires an arrow towards the bullseye. It makes contact. More arrow splinters fall to the ground.

'I agree. What the hell is this about?' Rose questions and points with the arrow she's taken still in her hand. Robin gapes at her while the Doctor folds his arms and doesn't answer her.

'My lady…' Robin begins before the Doctor cuts him off.

'Oh, shut up.'

'If you are scheming a plan why not inform the rest of us instead of making this into another battle of who has the largest ego, and who's easily offended.' Rose comments and the Doctor eyes her.

'What makes you think I have a plan?'

Rose fires off another arrow. 'What else would you be doing by getting involved like this?'

'Getting involved? Look who's talking.'

'I needed to get your attention somehow. It isn't like I can blow anything up.'

'But I can!' The Doctor points his sonic at the target which immediately erupts into flames and explodes. The fire ball is large and people are thrown off balance as thick smoke drives itself into the air, making the air hard to breathe and everyone's vision murky.

'Fascinating…' The Sheriff breathes and motions to the knights. 'Seize him!'

Three knights nod and begin to walk towards the Doctor and Rose widens her eyes. They draw their swords and the Doctor jumps back when they take a clumsy swing at him. Rose notices a sheathed sword propped up against the stands and she quickly snatches it up. She looks over at Clara as the commotion starts and she has found a rather anachronistic halberd from a rack she's pulled down, however it's heavy and she finds her balance challenged. The halberd drops back to the ground and she attempts to get a better grip on it to swing it. It's simply too heavy.

'Careful, Clara!' Rose call and lifts the sword up to a knight. It clatters loudly.

'Don't tell her that! Clara, put that down! What are you doing?' The Doctor calls to her and Clara dismisses him with a wave of her hand. Rose side rolls out of the way of a knight as he brings the sword up over his head and slices the ground where she was.

'I'm fine. I take Year Seven for after school Tae Kwon Do.' Clara explains and lifts the halberd up just ever so slightly. It's just so damn heavy and awkward.

Robin rushes to the Doctor's side and throws his arm out to keep the Doctor back and behind him. 'Don't worry, Doctor. I'll save you.'

'I don't need saving!' The Doctor replies and looks around at the chaos unfolding, he attempts multiple times to move away from Robin, but he is always right there beside him. The Doctor grows perturbed. 'Don't you have a damsel to save?'

'I do believe that the fair maidens have no need for my intervention.' Robin replies and the Doctor pauses and gives him a funny look.

'Oh and I do?'

'You're not as spry as they are,' Robin counters and the Doctor is unable to think of anything to say to that as he watches Rose duck from the lumbering swing the knight takes at her. 'Fear not. Your honour is safe.'

The Doctor rolls his eyes. 'I know.'

'For I am Robin,' He pauses and lets the anticipation build and removes his overly large, leather hat in a dramatic fashion. 'Robin Hood!' He lunges at an approaching knight and with his sword drawn he brings it over his head and then down on the knight's right arm, effectively severing it.

Only no blood spurts from the wound. The Doctor smirk and Rose pauses to stare stunned at what she's seeing. No blood but there is a quick spark. They faintly hear calls from the crowds as witchcraft. No wonder these knights seemed to be stronger than an average human, because they aren't. The Doctor scoops up the severed arm and turns it about in his hands.

'Robot…' The Doctor murmurs and the knight's visor opens to reveal a metal face. A violet coloured light in the form of a cross patter illuminates from between its eyebrows. 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

The Sheriff grows weary of the scene and annoyed that his knights' rouse has been uncovered. No matter, this situation is easily rectified and the townspeople will be brought back to submission with fear once more. That damage is easily controlled. It's these curs that will be harder to deal with. No matter. He needs more hands for the labour part anyway. And the dark-haired girl…well, she's a beauty. He may have use for her. His bed is cold without a woman to warm it. As for the fair-haired woman…he's undecided. He needs strong leaders to enact his will but she's also a woman. No one would listen to her. He has time to decide. The Sheriff motions to the knights.

'Take them. Kill the rest. Kill them all!' The Sheriff shouts and waits for the dust to settle. He never tires of seeing those energy bolts erupt from their foreheads. Nor the confusion from those who can't cope. He delights in it.

The Doctor looks around to those who are feeling, to Rose and Clara managing to defend themselves. He needs information and there is only one way to get it so that everyone stays together and he can keep an eye on another piece to this puzzle that might be starting to fit in. He almost curses himself for not realising it sooner.

'He surrenders!' The Doctor shouts and Robin gapes at him. Even the girls stop and look over to the Doctor who has a confident smirk on his face.

'What?' Robin questions and the Doctor uses some form of aikido to know Robin's sword out of his hand. Immediately Robin puts his hands up.

'Hail!'

'You miserable cur. I had them on the run,' Robin complains but the Doctor has already tuned him out. The girls rush over to join them before they're engulfed by the robotic knights. Their swords are drawn and everyone keeps their hands up. Robin looks to his men and nods to them. 'Flee, lads, flee! Light to fight another day!'

Tuck nods quickly and deposits the golden arrow into his large sleeves. 'Come on!'

They take off running across the field and disappear into the crowds themselves. The Sheriff appears before them and he gives them all a once over. Rose and Clara don't like how long his gaze settles on them before he turns swiftly on his heel and motions the knights to follow behind him.

'To the dungeons with all of them.'

Rose looks up to the Doctor. 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

'Yeah, what are you up to?' Clara adds and the Doctor puts his arm around their shoulders.

'Quickest way to find out anybody's plans, get yourself captured.' The Doctor replies and Rose sighs. She tries not to add that it will be hard to stop those plans while they are in a set of irons but she keeps her mouth closed. She just hopes that the bobby pins in her hair will hold up to antiquated locks, should be simple to pick but who knows. Rose turns over her shoulder to glare when one of the robotic knights shoves her forward to indicate a quicker pace.

Clara is imaging a dingy dungeon with rats, and the mere thought of rats crawling around on her makes her skin crawl. She shivers involuntarily. Please, let there not be rats.

* * *

Instead of rats mulling about there is a skeleton that is sitting up against a stake that has been fastened to the dirty stone floor. Clara hasn't been able to take her eyes off the skeleton. She doesn't know what is worse, the fact that she can't see the rats that are making little sounds, scurrying about undetected, or the skeleton of a person that is positioned to the right of them, giving her a sense that she's being constantly watched. She tugs a bit on the chains but it doesn't give. Of course it wouldn't.

They had been all brought to the same room, odd, she had recalled at the time, allowing four prisoners the same lodgings. What if they devised a plan to escape? Obviously, the Sheriff was a gambling man, he believed they would sit there to rot, lamenting in their situation until they were ready to talk.

However, as usual, there isn't really a sense of dread and doom amongst them, more like passive aggressive anger. Annoyance about being here. This is a giant inconvenience. They could be using this time to be searching for answers rather and stopping whatever it is the Sheriff is doing with this robotic knights than chained to one another. Perhaps what the Doctor had envisioned was them being tossed individually into separate cells or in one big one together, free range. This set of irons has thrown a massive kink in his chain. And since it was the Doctor's idea to get them caught, she imagines it'd be him the has a plan to get out.

Then again…that had been what felt like hours ago. They've sat in silence ever since. Tension is growing. It's thick but it's getting stifling. Clara turns to the Doctor to see him glaring at her. It takes her a second to realise he isn't glaring at her, he's actually staring Rose down. Clara leans back and then looks to Rose. She has the same menacing glance fixed on her that the Doctor has. They're having one of those infamous silent battles. She knows, logically, that they are not really speaking mentally though there is one small part of her that believes they do. Especially when Rose huffs and looks away. And exasperated sigh that one gives when the other person they're battling with is being completely unreasonable and so it's better to just end it.

'You're unbelievable.' Rose finally states and the Doctor stares angrily at the cell door. It seems that needed to be the only thing said as the tension comes to ahead and everyone has reached their breaking point.

'All I said was that it wouldn't work.' The Doctor informs Rose and she smiles a smile of disbelief and anger.

'You never even let me try.'

'If Rose has an idea, why can't we try it?' Clara interjects and the Doctor remains silent. Robin looks over to the Doctor before his silence becomes too much and Robin rolls his eyes.

'Splendid. Enchained.' He comments sarcastically and the Doctor turns to eye him up next. Clara and Rose exchange exhausted looks. Unknown to the rest of them, Rose's right shackle was not put on properly and she's been wiggling around ever since to free at least one hand. When she does then she can get to the pin in her hair and pick at the lock.

'Yup…' Clara agrees and Robin leans forward so they have one another in their eye line. Robin eventually leans back and turns his head to the Doctor. Again he remains silent. And his silence angers Robin. So he goads the Doctor on.

'Trussed up like turkey-cock. No thanks to your friend.' Robin states and that gets the Doctor's attention. Rose presses her lips together in a thin line. Clara closes her eyes.

'Shut it, Hoodie. I saved your life.' The Doctor reminds Robin and Robin gives him an offended stare.

'Enough with the name calling.' Rose declares to no one in particular. She knows it won't help.

'I had the situation well in hand.' Robin inflates his importance. Truth was, to Rose and Clara, they know he could have easily been struck down with the power of those robots. They both remain silent. This is one pissing contest that has to be allowed to work itself out. Though the girls doubt it will be any time soon.

'Long haired ninny versus robot killer knights?' The Doctor wonders mockingly. 'I know where I'd put my money.'

Robin shakes his head, ignoring the Doctor's criticisms. 'If you had not betrayed me, I would have been triumphant.'

'You would have been a little puff of smoke and ashes.' The Doctor informs him seriously. Both Clara and Rose know he's right but again they remain silent. This arguing it growing tedious and tiresome. Taking away from valuable time they could be exhausting their energies elsewhere.

'Oh, ha!' Robin declares and the Doctor presses onward, angry at Robin's flat out denial of his fate had he not intervened. At least they can agree on that.

'You'd have been floating around in tiny little laughing bits in people's goblets.' The Doctor adds and Robin grins at him.

'Balderdash. Ha!'

The Doctor rolls his eyes and is immediately annoyed that he can't cover his ears from the noise. 'Oh, right, here we go. It's laughing time.'

'Well, you amuse me, grey old man.' Robin declares and Clara and Rose once again exchange desperate looks. Though Robin's assessment of the Doctor does bring a little smile to their faces. They do believe he may have won that round.

The Doctor looks to the cell door and when nothing passes by the little window, no shadows in the torchlight he calls out. 'Guards, I cannot remain in this cell! Execute me now.'

'Oh stop being such a drama queen.' Rose tells him and the Doctor shakes his head.

'Are you listening to that drivel?'

'All I hear is your drivel.'

Robin doesn't help matters, he dismissively calls out to whoever is listening. 'You heard him. Execute the old fool.'

The Doctor pauses and then remembers another alternative. 'No, hang on. Execute him.' He shouts to the door and Robin grins.

'I do not fear death, so execute away.' Robin declares and watches the Doctor.

'Execute him. I'd like to see if his head keeping laughing when you chop it off!' The Doctor shouts and Rose rolls her eyes.

'Boys…'

'Oh, Robin Hood always laughs in the face of death.' Robin reminds the Doctor and Clara nearly believes she sees the Doctor twitch.

'Boys!' Rose shouts but they ignore her and dissolve into their petty argument. She slips her right hand free, finally and deciding that the two of them are no longer worth her effort, she reaches into her hair and pulls out a bobby pin before she sets to work on her left hand manacle.

'Yes, rolling around the floor laughing, I would pay good money to see that.' The Doctor replies angrily and there is a lull in conversation.

Clara is startled when both the Doctor and Robin shout for a guard to appear and carry out the others wises for execution. She looks over to Rose who is staring off into space obviously done with their pettiness and squabbling. She feels like retreating to wherever it is Rose has gone too, hoping there would be room for one more. However unlike Rose…she can't tune out their yelling. Something in her snaps.

'Oh you two, shut up!' Clara calls angrily to them and to her shock, they do actually settle down. She inhales deeply. 'Do either of you understand, in any way at all, that there isn't actually a guard out there?'

'Oh…' The Doctor trails off, having gotten caught up in the moment and now realising how childish he sounded. How embarrassed he is now.

'I did, in fact.' Robin declares and just like that, the Doctor's new found sense of self actualisation disappears, evaporated.

'No, you didn't.'

'I said, shut up. The Doctor and Robin Hood locked up in a cellar. Is this seriously the best that you can do? You're determined to starve to death in here squabbling.' Clara reminds them and again they pause for a moment to contemplate their situation. The Doctor leans back to see Rose quietly staring off into nothingness. Unlike her. Usually she's first to have a plan or a suggestion. Isn't she? Why's she letting them down now?

'Well, I'll tell you one thing. I'd last a lot longer than this desiccated man-crone.' Robin decides and Clara internalises her heavy sigh. She looks over to Rose, needing moral support, but she's actually dropped her stare to the chain that connects them all. Clara manages to grab a hold of it in her hands, understanding what Rose means.

'Really?' The Doctor challenges and Robin leans closer.

'Really.'

'Well, you know what? I think you'll find I have a certain genetic advantage. Oh!' The Doctor is yanked towards Clara who has pulled on the chain connected to his wrist. She has a very unhappy glint in her eyes.

'You two are trying to turn who can die slower into a competition. Are you two unhinged?' Rose finally comes around and the Doctor looks over to her, glad she's decided to rejoin them.

'It would be a competition I would win, though, wouldn't I?' The Doctor questions her delightfully and Rose throws him a disgusted frown.

Clara sighs. She wants to rub her temples at the oncoming headache she can feel but can't. It leaves her a little agitated. 'There was supposed to be a plan. Do either of you two have a plan?'

'Yeah, of course I have a plan.' The Doctor sounds offended she'd even ask.

'I too have a plan.' Robin interjects and Rose closes her eyes, tired of this nonsense between them. She's already daydreaming about leaving. Leaving her surroundings and getting back to basics. She needs a vacation. Time to get in touch with herself. This is not going well – this regeneration. It's making her depressed. It's time to see old friends.

'Then why, gentlemen, if I may be so bold as to inquire…have you two bloody well waited so long!' Rose cries out and everyone turns to stare at her in disbelief. She's the calm one. The collected one. Seeing her shout like that is unnerving. The Doctor looks away from her and feels a little guilty and culpable for causing her outburst.

'I'll settle this,' Clara softly informs Rose. 'Okay. Robin, you first. Your plan.'

'Why him?' The Doctor protests amidst the smug grin on Robin's face.

'Doctor, shut up. Robin, your plan.' Clara encourages and after taking a victorious smirk on his face, ensuring the Doctor sees it, Robin clears his throat.

'I am biding my time.' Robin informs her and Clara nods her head in response, utterly perplexed at his thought but nonetheless presses onward.

'Thank you, Prince of Thieves. Last of the Time Lords?' Clara wonders and the Doctor looks at her and the Robin.

'Yes, I have a plan-…' The Doctor inhales before being cut off by Clara.

'Can you explain your plan without using the word sonic screwdriver? Because you might have forgotten the Sheriff of Nottingham has taken your sonic screwdriver, just saying,' Clara exhales and turns to Rose. She nods in agreement. 'It's always the screwdriver.'

'I guess that's why we should really have backup tools.' Rose suggests and Clara smirks at her.

'Sonic drill?'

'If you two are quite done…' The Doctor interjects and Clara turns back to him.

'Yes, do go on. Your plan.'

'Okay good. Yes. Okay, let, let, let, let's hear Robin's plan first.' The Doctor decides and Clara internally screams while keeping a blank façade.

'Oh, for god's sake!' Clara declares and everyone freezes when the sound of the door lock tumblers are disengaged and there is a long drawn out pause before the heavy door is heaved forward, squealing on rusted hinges.

'See? There was a guard. There was a guard listening the whole time, I knew it. Ha!'

The guard is nothing more than a scrawny pole who is in dirty attire with yellowed eyes and barely any teeth left save for rotten stumps. Clara swallows and feels her stomach flip. Thank god for oral hygiene.

The guard stands in front of the three of them and places his hands on his hips. 'The Sheriff himself commanded me to listen, to find out which of you is the true ringleader.'

'Ah, so he can do the interrogating. Very wise.' The Doctor agrees and looks to Robin wondering how much he'd tell the Sheriff if he were chosen.

'Excellent. He will get nothing from me.' Robin assures them and the Doctor leans forward trying to beckon the guard towards him.

'No, no, no, no, no. He will get nothing from me, because interrogation, that's where I always turn the tables. You see, that's my plan.' The Doctor tells them, trying to outdo Robin. The guard stares at him for a moment longer before Robin speaks up.

'Just hurry up and take me to him.' Robin demands and the Doctor leans to his right trying to impede on the guard's line of vision, which still rests on Robin.

'No, no, chop-chop, come on!' The Doctor is stunned when the guard retreats and shuffles around to where Clara is chained to the pole. He reaches into the pocket on his stained shirt and removes the key, unlocking Clara and hoisting her up by her arm – which he hangs onto too tightly. Clara looks unimpressed by all means.

'Seriously.' That's when she notices that Rose is also gone. She has to do a double take to really see that she's gone. But they were just talking to one another. Where could she have gone? She almost panics. But she can't alert the Doctor or Robin because they're too busy being slighted by the Sheriff's decision to pick her and not either of them.

'Come on.' The guard insists, yanking her a bit while Clara is attempting to look over her shoulder to find where Rose is. She scans the room but she sees no obvious signs of things more or shadows that don't quiet belong. Did she find another way out? It makes her so uncomfortable. Did Rose turn on that mercenary type setting in her mind and then what? Vanish into thin air? Unlikely. Right?

'Doctor, would you-…' She begins, trying to alert him to Rose's disappearance before she's interrupted by the Doctor.

'No.'

'What are you doing?' Robin adds and the Doctor observes the guard leading Clara out into the hall that lies beyond the door, which is slammed and locked in his face.

'Don't be ridiculous!' He shouts but heads nothing but the retreating footfalls of the guard and Clara. He turns to Robin. 'Now look what you've done.'

They both stare at the door hoping that wherever the guard is taking Clara, that she'll be safe. After all, if the Sheriff is hoping to interrogate the leader, he's met his match in Clara. She's not easily riled.

* * *

They walk down the long, stone halls reveals nothing useful that Clara can use. The light cast by the torches makes it harder to tell where she could be in this castle though she's fairly certain a few times she has heard unmistakeable grunts of pain and cries of fear. Sobs and robotic voices grow closer before they fade. To her it sounds as though they are building something and using humans as the means for labour. She wonders if Rose has indeed escaped and is scouring the castles as well for clues. She can only hope.

The several attempts she's made at engaging the guard in conversation doesn't appear to work in her favour either. He stays mum. And smelly. She holds her breath as they ascend a stone stairwell to a set of grand wooden doors with iron spindles woven into grand shapes. The guard knocks once and opens the door.

He pushes Clara into the room and shuts the door, disappearing down the halls to go back to the dungeons, to guard the prisoners there. Clara stands awkwardly in the door and watches the Sheriff as he stares into the fireplace for some time before he snaps himself out of his thoughts. The room is richly decorated. Animal rugs are scattered about the floor along with a suit of armour beside the fireplace. There is a large, grand table set in the middle of the room that can easily fit eighteen people at it and that gives the appearance of being too large for the room. It is decorated with rich foods and drink. Clara wonders who else will be joining them, as this is a lot of food for one person.

The Sheriff gives her a rather disturbing smile as he draws closer to her, and Clara doesn't miss the fact that his eyes give her a once over thrice. She feels dirty and she leans back as the Sheriff bows in front of her. He straightens up and motions to feast lain table.

'My Lady, come won't you join me?' The Sheriff overs his hand but Clara brushes by him and walks towards the table. The Sheriff hastens his step and beats her to the seat at the one end of the table. He pulls the chair out and Clara suppress an eye roll. She sits and he pushes her chair in before walking slowly to the other end.

When he seats himself he picks a few things off of various plates of food, depositing them onto his own. While the food does look good, and smell good, Clara remains guarded, focused and a little hungry. He pops a few figs into his mouth and thoroughly enjoys it. He motions to Clara to eat as well, but Clara shakes her head.

'Nope.'

The Sheriff shrugs and tastes a few pieces of quail that has been prepared. Clara waits patiently for him to finish up but he seems to drag this on for quite some time. And while not really a disgusting eater – he chews with his mouth closed, thank god – she really wants to find out what he's up to. And she reckons it is the same for him with her.

After a while, Clara's lack of participation seems to exasperate the Sheriff. He again offers her a small piece of quail but Clara shakes her head.

'Please, my Lady, eat. Let it not be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham is a poor host.'

'I had a bag of crisps this morning, thanks.' Clara smiles an insincere smile. The Sheriff regards her for a moment and tilts his head at her words. He is perplexed by her sentence. Clara can see it.

'Your words are strange, fair one.'

Clara presses her lips together. 'Mm, I should think they are.'

'But I like you. You're refreshingly direct. And unlike the fair-haired maiden, you do not dress like a tart.'

'You can take the girl out of Blackpool…' Clara trails off concerned that the Sheriff called Rose a tart. Time to move on to more important things. The Sheriff must have been thinking the same thing because he lifts up something oblong wrapped in a cling film. Clara wonders if they are sandwiches that the Doctor had in his pocket. She wonders how long they've been there. Next he holds up the spoon.

'These were taken from your friend's strange tunic. An intriguing gallimaufry. Including this wand. Evidently a thing of awesome power,' The Sheriff lifts his gaze from the sonic to Clara who is still sitting in her spot, stiff as a board. 'Tell me, are you from beyond the stars?'

Clara places her elbows on the table and shrugs nonchalantly. 'You're the one with the robot army. You tell me.'

The game of chess has begun. She grows uncomfortable the longer the Sheriff continues to study her. Amply. Okay, so while she's waiting for the others to come looking for her, she needs to talk about nothing to get the Sheriff to reveal his plans, though she can guess. Use the robots but what for? Is he planning a campaign to capture the shire of Nottingham, or larger? She supposes larger. Okay, time to talk about everything and nothing. Though the Sheriff beats her to the topic. He's been twisting the dagger in his hands for some time but abruptly brings it down to spear a piece of sweetmeat. Clara swallows.

'But enough of tawdry matters. Let us talk of softer, sweeter things.' The Sheriff decides and Clara internally winces. She collects herself and snaps her fingers, pointing at him.

'Ah. Good, yes. I was hoping we'd get to that.' Clara replies and the Sheriff pauses in his thoughts and stares at her befuddled at her forwardness.

'You…were?' He clarifies and she smirks at him, choosing her next words carefully.

She absently twists a curl and lowers her gaze so that she's staring at him through her lashes. 'Mm, for I have known I was destined to draw the eye of a great and powerful man for a long time,' she pauses and observes a slight grin cross the Sheriff's face. She takes a shot in the dark and hopes what she says next would be accurate. 'Ever since I saw those mysterious lights in the sky.'

The Sheriff leans forward in his seat and regards her with candour. Clara nearly fist pumps the air. She was right. 'You saw them too?' he breathes and she nods her head eagerly.

'And those strange mechanical men, with their promises.' Clara ventures and the Sheriff sits back in his chair, glad he found someone else who has had this experience.

'I too have experienced this.'

'Really? Well, I would never have guessed,' Clara lies and rests her elbows on the table. 'Tell me your story.'

The Sheriff tilts his chin away from her. 'Tell me yours.'

Clara wags her finger at him. How can she deduce his plan, if she's got nothing to go on? She needs to think. 'Oh, no, no, no, no. But you have to go first.'

The Sheriff regards her with a bemused frown. 'Why so?'

Clara clears her throat. 'Because great men always precede.'

The Sheriff nods his head approvingly and Clara commends herself on her outstanding lie. 'You have a point.' He acknowledges and Clara motions him to go on.

'Your story, then.'

'Once upon a time, there was a brave and clever and handsome man…' The Sheriff trails off and Clara presses her lips together.

'I can almost picture him. I don't even have to close my eyes.' She lies and is unable to believe that this man is truly telling her everything she needs to know while she has told him nothing at all, merely feeding him blind statements of agreements while he continues filling in the details. This is almost too easy.

Her statement pleases him and he regards her beauty before pressing onward. What a great addition she will make to this castle. He already imagines their life together. Her boldness will shock his contemporaries at first, but they will grow accustomed to her and her mannerisms. They will fall under her bewitching charms. He continues with his tale – even though it serves to stir up old memories and emotions.

'Unappreciated by his royal master.'

'Prince John?' Clara ventures and she is certain the Sheriff's face flushes from anger.

'The very same.' The Sheriff confirms and Clara shakes her head, he is comforted by her concern. Clara is certain she can guess the next part; it reads almost like a movie or book.

'Then came the lights in the sky, and everything changed.' She surmises and the Sheriff nods his head deeply.

'The skyship came to Earth in a fury of fire.'

If it weren't for his general sliminess, Clara appreciates the picture painted with his words. 'I'd almost call it a crash. I remember it well.'

'A craft from the heavenly spheres, bedight with twinkling lights and miracles beyond imagining. The most beautiful thing the brace and handsome man had ever seen.' The Sheriff carries on and Clara suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at the man.

'And I suppose the mechanical men saw you as their natural leader?'

The Sheriff gives her a superior smirk that tells her only naturally. 'It was I and I alone to whom the mechanical men then imparted their secrets. Shortly, I shall be the most powerful man in the realm. King in all but name, for Nottingham is not enough.' He carries on in a dramatic fashion and Clara eyes him suspiciously. Suddenly her earlier concerns begin to sound off alarm bells in her mind. Global domination?

'It isn't?' She ventures and the Sheriff absently twirls the dagger in his hands, proudly shaking his head at her.

'After this, Derby.'

Okay, maybe she doesn't have to be concerned after all. She nearly breathes a sigh of relief. 'Right.'

'Then Lincoln. And after Lincoln…' He trails off and Clara waits for him to complete his though but the pause becomes too long and so she leans forward in anticipation. Still he says nothing. So she improvises.

'Worksop?' Clara wonders but jumps from shock when the Sheriff angrily and swiftly drives the dagger in his hand deep into the table. It cracks slightly and she swallows.

'The world!' The Sheriff shouts and Clara looks away with a bored expression. There it is. Always with the world domination. Clara flips an errant piece of hair out of her eyes. She rests her chin in her hand internally sighs.

'So, what are you hanging around here for, then, Your Majesty? Why are you bothering to squeeze pips out of peasants if you've got a skyship on standby?' Clara inquires innocently and she is a bit concerned when the Sheriff is about to answer her when he pauses. He gives her a thorough once over before smiling and shaking his head.

It makes Clara uncomfortable. She figured that as long as she stroked this man's ego by telling him how great he is that he'd simply tell her everything she'd need to know. As if he hasn't already. He's passed a great deal of information to her. But he's getting just a bit too close to her, and that grin tells her he's up to no good. She takes a few steps around the table so they are facing one another again.

'Enough questions. I'm impatient to hear your story.' The Sheriff decides and Clara closes her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. No time like the present to come clean. At least there is a table separating them.

'Oh, but I do not have one,' Clara reveals and the Sheriff's becomes crestfallen and confused. He waits for her answer and she folds her arms. 'I was lying.'

'Lying?' He repeats, there is a hurtful tone to his voice and Clara nods her head solemnly. She decides to elaborate.

'Yeah. People are so much better at sharing information if they think the other person has already got it.' She replies and the Sheriff moves around the table, staring at her and nodding his head in agreement. Clara studies him suspiciously.

'Oh, that's very clever.'

Clara beams. 'Thank you.'

The Sheriff stops in front of Clara and nods his head at her. He reaches out to move a stray piece of hair off of her face and tucks it behind her ear. 'You'll do very well.'

Clara steps back slightly and eyes him. 'For what?'

'Doesn't every king require a consort?' The Sheriff questions mischievously and Clara widens her eyes. Oh, that angle she should have seen coming. He leans forward to place a kiss on her and the closer he attempts to get, the further she leans away. She manages to duck out of the way of his kiss by twisting towards the table and shuffling around it quickly. She points her finger at him.

'Right, you do that and you'll regret that.' She warns and the Sheriff frowns in confusion.

'Don't all women dream of being queen?'

'There isn't enough time in the day to tell you where you're wrong.' Clara tells him and he marches towards her. The first time, she feels uneasy and frightened. She doesn't think he'd hurt her but who knows. She's just rejected him – thankfully there was no audience – so while his pride is no doubt bruised, he can sweep that under and move on. The only embarrassment is between the two of them.

'Perhaps it's time we put you back where you belong. And to see if your friends are ready to be moved to different quarters.' The Sheriff secures Clara by her arm and she attempts to shrug him off of her. She pushes on his chest and wriggles but he holds her firmly in place.

They head towards the door; she hopes that everyone has at least figured out a way to get themselves out of that dungeon and are infiltrating his castle looking for their own clues. Then again with two massive egos constantly duelling it out, she imagines Rose would be getting mighty tired of that. She may have gone her own way. Which could be better. She'd make less noise.

* * *

They sat in silence until they heard the guard's footsteps coming closer. They sat up right when the guard peered in briefly and moved about. They heard shuffling noises and someone taking a seat. The guard was definitely out there. Now they just had to get out.

'We need a plan.' Robin tells the Doctor and he stares at the door, trying to think of something fast.

'I thought you had one.' The Doctor counters and Robin sighs impatiently.

'Then maybe we should ask Rose what hers was, maybe then we'd get somewhere,' Robin leans forward to call to Rose but straightens up against the pole and shakes his head. 'What a crafty woman. She has escaped and left us to die. Who could blame her?'

The Doctor frowns. 'Are you blind as well as daft? She's right-…' he stops when he notices that Robin is right. Rose _is_ gone. The only thing left of her is the manacles that bound her. He switches gears immediately, scared that something happened to her, that while they had been absorbed in their arguments someone came for her.

The fear of them doing something to her in concerning, though they wouldn't get close enough to her he doesn't like having a body unaccounted for. At least with Clara, she's got her wits about her and she knows she's still physically in this castle. Rose _must_ be, but where?

'You were saying?' Robin wonders smugly and the Doctor scans the cell but sees no sign of her. This is worrisome.

'Rose?' He calls and waits but there is nothing. No sound save for the drip drop of water somewhere they can't see. 'Think, Robin. Did someone else come in and take her? Did she go with Clara?'

'How am I to know? I thought she was your ward.' Robin studies the room, his eyes darting to the darkest corners of the cell and the highest peaks of the ceiling. There is nothing. If she is still here, then she has merged with the shadows. He wonders if she truly is a witch. It would explain things.

'She's more than that to me.'

'Then we have to get out of here,' Robin agrees and pauses. He believes he has a plan. 'Beat your breast. Moan. Groan as though twenty devils possessed your guts.'

The Doctor gapes at him. 'What for?'

'So as to attract the attention of that gargoyle faced guard. Are you slow?'

The Doctor becomes offended. 'It's your plan. _You_ moan.'

Robin feels a fight coming on. 'No, no. No, it won't work.'

'Why?' The Doctor wonders seriously confused by that statement. He won't be the one to make a fool of himself for something that wasn't even his idea in the first place.

'Oh, because you're clearly more advanced in years and you have a sickly aspect to you.' Robin explains and the Doctor doesn't know what offends him the most. He picks off the closest thing to memory.

'I have a what?'

'You're as pale as milk. It's the way with Scots. They're strangers to vegetables.' Robin replies and the Doctor opens his mouth to refute his claims but stays silent. Instead he frowns and Robin can see that if they are to move forward he'll have to secede his way if the Doctor doesn't agree.

'I'm not moaning. You moan.'

Robin sighs and rolls his eyes. 'Fine. If you want something doing…' he trails off and lets out a boisterous moan, he pauses for a moment and leans over to the Doctor as he lowers his voice. 'Can I rely upon you to do the rest?'

'Yes, yes. I know the drill.' The Doctor replies dismissively. The guard's yellowed eyes peer through the grill on the door. The Doctor glances over to Robin but hardly moves his head and the guard shifts his gaze.

'What is this din?' He wonders and the Doctor motions him to go away.

'No business of yours, cur,' The Doctor turns down to Robin who is leaning forward in phantom pain. 'Speak up. I can't hear you.'

The guard takes a tentative step forward when he enters the cell. 'What ails him?' he wonders, pointing to Robin who is still groaning on the floor.

'None of your business.' The Doctor informs him and pretends to feign an interest in Robin, who continues to moan. The guard feels slighted by the Doctor's dismissive attitude and stomps closer to the Doctor and Robin, but smartly still leaves a decent enough gap.

'I said, what ails him?' The guard repeats, firmer than before. Good, they have him in their trap, the rest will be easy. They just have to lower that guard's sense of security, make him come closer to inspect Robin, hopefully he can keep up with the ruse.

The Doctor shrugs at the guard who continues to regard Robin with fascination who has now slumped forward from supposed pain. 'Well, if you must know, he's having a nervous breakdown.'

The guard takes a step backwards in fear. 'A what?'

'He's like this whenever he's in any kind of danger,' The Doctor informs the guard who frowns as he digests the prisoner's explanation. 'He just can't seem to cope. He gets so afraid. He goes into a kind of fit. I honestly believe that he may die of sheer fright, like some tiny, shivering little mouse.'

He doesn't see Robin's frown growing the longer the Doctor continues to insult him. The guard points again. 'Like unbalanced humours? Something has gone awry? Is that what you mean?'

'No, not really. Humours are not real, and I'll be glad when you people stop believing in them.'

A new voice floats down at the same time a figure drops from somewhere up around the ceiling. The guard widens his eyes as the fair-haired maiden from earlier has appeared in front of him. He didn't see her when he walked in. How could he not have? How did he miss her? He had to get the dark-haired maiden. He's going to be in so much trouble. She'll have to be manacled once again. Why is he scared of her? No. He can't be. She's just a woman, she will be easily subdued. He'll get her chained up once more and no one will know of this little slip up. Just a woman. So go get her. Why doesn't he go? He isn't moving…he clears his throat. She's intimidating.

'Now see here-…'

That's all he manages to get out before she takes a small step back and lifts her right leg, throwing it into the side of his head in a crescent fashion. The heel of her shoe connects with his temple and he drops to the floor in a heap after half spinning backward. Rose turns over her shoulder to the Doctor and Robin who stare at her mouths agape.

'What?'

'My Lady…' Robin breathes and then eyes her. 'Are you…are you a witch?' he lowers his voice just in case there is someone listening. He doesn't want to get her in any sort of trouble. More so.

'A witch? No.'

'A witch…where'd you pull that one? Never seen a woman crescent kick a man unconscious before?' The Doctor wonders and Robin turns to the Doctor shaking his head. 'Where were you anyway?'

'There's a wooden beam connected between the two stone pillars in the corner. My right chain was broken so I got out of that one and I picked the lock on the left.' Rose explains and decides that she needs to remove the guard from his spot on the floor. She wonders where she can stash him.

'You didn't think to help us out?' The Doctor questions her and Rose shakes her head.

'No, not at all. I'd grown tired of you two bickering. Honestly the egos between you two…' Rose breathes, mostly to herself, and decides to simply manacle the guard to the pole, that way he won't be able to go far. She glances at him and notices that the ring of keys he has are on his right hip. She loops her arms under his and begins to drag him towards the pole. 'One of you get those keys.'

Robin and the Doctor both zero in on the keys left on the ground they turn to one another.

'I'll get them.' Robin declares and shimmies himself in a position to get them with his foot, not wanting to be outdone, the Doctor shifts himself as well.

'No, no, I'll get them.'

'I'll get them, I'll get them.' Robin begins to fight for the keys with his feet. The Doctor soon joins in.

'One of you two get those damn things.' Rose calls from her spot at the pole and carefully ensures that the guard's wrists are locked up.

'I'm fine, no, no worries. I've got them!' The Doctor declares and moves Robin's feet out of the way with his own.

'I've got them! I'll get-…' Robin trails off and Rose's head shoots up from her task when the sound of keys hitting rocks and splashing into water echo around her. She gets up, hoping she didn't hear what she thought she did, and walks towards the grate in the ground and presses her lips together in frustration while she lifts her eyes to Robin and the Doctor who are staring at the grate in utter shock. Their faces are both pale and both have a horrific plastered that hasn't gone away when they lift their eyes to meet hers.

'Well, not to worry. Rose will get us out.' The Doctor informs Robin and Rose merely walks to cell door and opens it, peering out to make sure the coast is clear. She catches sight of the back of another guard and he turns around the corner.

'Rose will not. Come along, boys. The coast is clear and we're running out of daylight.' She leans against the doorframe while they stare at her in utter shock.

'This is not funny, Rose. Please pick the lock for us.' The Doctor replies and she shakes her head at him.

'Have you ever seen the old cartoons, the one where two opposites get manacled together? Like the cat and dog? And they spend the whole episode looking for a smith to cut them a key to get free of one another? Good lesson in that.' Rose questions and Robin is lost in her meaning while the Doctor becomes less than impressed.

'You can't be serious.'

'Deadly, I'm afraid.'

'You're being completely unreasonable.' The Doctor tells her and she shrugs while nodding her head. Robin looks over his shoulder to the rock that is there. It isn't fastened to anything and he should be able to pick it up.

'You should be used to that by now.' Rose pushes herself off the doorframe and begins to walk down the hall. Her shadow disappears and Robin and the Doctor sit there for a few seconds more before they carefully attempt to get to their feet. She is teaching them a lesson of working together – which he might add is a lesson that children should know - and the Doctor doesn't want to have any of it. Of all the times to do it, too.

Robin grabs a hold of the block that their chains are fastened too and heaves it up, motioning to the Doctor to stand up as well. They do so together and Robin strains from the weight of the stone, shifting it in his hands a few times to get a better hold of it. The Doctor claps him on the back and he nearly drops the stone, so he lurches forward. The Doctor is tugged along as well and they both nearly fall to ground once more. Robin flings the Doctor an unimpressed look and he shrugs in reply.

'Right, let's go find Rose…' The Doctor begins to lead the way and Robin clears his throat, the Doctor turns around. 'What is it?'

'Do you think you could take this for a moment?'

'Why? You're doing such a great job of it.'

Robin rolls his eyes while he follows the Doctor out into the hall and they follow the torch light around the corner where the slumped body of another guard lies against the wall and Rose standing there, her arms crossed and a bemused grin on her lips. At least she's taken care of those obstacles in their way. He'd had to imagine all this slinking around just the two of them and having to wonder about guards. They continue to walk around the maze-like corridors looking for something in particular. At least the Doctor hopes so. Rose seems to know it. They'd make faster progress if something…or someone didn't keep falling behind.

Robin stops for a moment to shift the weight of the block in his hands to make it easier. Rose stops when she notices that he needs a moment and the Doctor is only halted when the length of the chain is maxed out. He turns over his shoulder to see Robin catching his breath. Of all the times to stop and take a moment.

'Will you please share with me where and what we're doing?' Robin looks at the Doctor and he frowns out of surprise.

'I thought it'd be obvious. We need a blacksmith's forge.' The Doctor explains and motions him to move it. Rose clears her throat as a warning to the Doctor and Robin glances down to the rusty linkages that bind them together.

'So as to remove our chains?' Robin surmises and the Doctor eyes him suspiciously. He turns to Rose to see if he's being seriously and she folds her arms in response. A warning to answer the question seriously.

Too bad for Rose because he can't not answer Robin without being snarky. 'No. So I can knock up an ornamental plant stand – of course it's so we can get rid of our chains. I don't want to manacled to you all night,' The Doctor replies and Robin stares at him, almost as though offended by the Doctor's sarcasm. Rose couldn't blame him. However, to her surprise, Robin laughs. The Doctor becomes horrified. 'Oh, no. Please, don't do that.'

Robin begins walking with the Doctor leading the way and Rose in front of them as he continues to laugh. Even Rose has a grin plastered on her face. Though the Doctor is certain it's because of his discomfort and annoyance with Robin's constant jovialness than his witty observation.

'Ornamental plant stand…' Robin repeats and the Doctor looks over his shoulder in an effort to shut him up.

'It's not even that funny.' The Doctor informs him and desperately tries to tune out his laughter.

'You're an amusing fellow, Doctor.'

'Oh, don't. Can you just stop! You'll give yourself a hernia…' The Doctor adds and Rose stops at the base of a flight of stairs and turns to both of them before descending the stairs. Her patience has obviously nearly reached its maximum, and is struggling to contain an outburst aimed at the two of them.

'Listen to me,' She begins in a subdued tone. Robin moves behind the Doctor in hopes of staying out of her line of sight. 'I am tired of you two and your constant battling egos. Doctor, get over it. Learn to ignore it and let it go if you don't care for things.'

'Why are you scolding me only?' He answers back and Rose eyes him.

'Seriously? That's the only thing you focus on? You're acting like a child.' She finishes and throw him another look that says he shouldn't make a comment on this matter anymore. She stomps down the stairs and the Doctor and Robin linger behind at the top.

The Doctor sighs and begins to head down the stairs after her. Robin carefully follows the Doctor around the spiral stone stairs and an uneasy quietness fall over them. It's uncomfortable and Robin decides to dispel the silence.

'I know you mentioned that Rose was not your ward…are you two…married?'

The Doctor turns around to see if Robin was serious in his question or if he was simply joking. There is a sincerity to Robin that the Doctor hadn't seen before. Merely trying his hand to keep the mood light. It's evident that this little adventure has been straining to them. Anyone with a brain could see it.

'Don't be ridiculous…' The Doctor mutters and Robin feels the tension in that comment.

'I'm sorry, it's just-…'

'It's just what?' The Doctor interrupts and Robin shakes his head, trying to move on past the awkwardness he's just created.

'Nothing. Sorry I brought it up. I just never saw two people argue like that who weren't married.'

The Doctor can't help but smile at that one, though he makes sure Robin can't see it. 'We've been through a lot together, that girl and I…things just…aren't the same. We've hit a rough patch. Sometimes I think we can overcome it…other times…wait, why am I telling you of all people this? Forget it. Never mind.'

Robin happily obliges. It got very deep, the most human he'd seen the Doctor get in their short time together. Whatever troubled waters their ship is travelling on at the moment, they'll overcome it, they have that quality about them. Sheer stubbornness coupled with determination – they're not quitters. They finally reach the bottom of the stairs to see Rose standing by an older man covered in sweat and whose arms are larger than tree trunks. She has her arms folded and motions to them with her head. The man scratches his beard and lets out a hearty laugh when he sets eyes on them, agreeing with Rose over something Robin and the Doctor missed. She glances to the smith as he heads towards his tools and picks up the hammer on the anvil. Rose leans against the walls while Robin drops the block, happily regaining the feeling in his fingers. Silence falls over them while they listening to the smith banging away at his work. No one attempts conversation in the slightest however the Doctor can see that even though she's said nothing, Rose in the middle of some heavy decision making. He can see the thoughts pass her eyes. She's going to do something. Something big.

Finally, the smith manages to free Robin and the Doctor from their chains and they rejoice in no longer being manacled to one another. Rose kindly thanks the smith for his time and he nods his head at her, silently she heads up the stairs while the Doctor and Robin issue their thanks from freeing the them from the other. They rush up the stairs to see Rose half way down the corridor and as they draw closer they see her stop and turn towards another hallway, confusion written all over her face as she walks out of sight.

'Rose!' The Doctor calls and sprints to catch up after her. When he reaches the hallway, he can see what has drawn her attention and warrant for a closer inspection. There is a metal doorway.

'Here's something odd. Metal door? Where do you think it leads to?' Rose wonders when the Doctor and Robin catch up to her.

'Hopefully to answers.'

Robin observes Rose and the Doctor walking towards that strange metal door without hesitation. While he cautiously advances, unsure of what will be waiting for them on the other side. How could a door be constructed of metal that large? And yet it appears to be weightless as something pulls it apart from either end. The door reveals a long, Spartan area that is nothing but fabricated of metal. There is a glowing hemisphere on a console at the very end of the room.

Robin feels uneasy in this room but nevertheless sees Rose rushing towards a pedestal and she begins to do something, clicking away. The Doctor investigates the room itself, probing for answers. Robin stays close to Rose, senses clearly overloaded with confusion.

'At last. Something real. No more fairy tales.' The Doctor declares and Rose punches her fist in the air.

'Doctor look, I've managed to get into the ship's logs.'

'Good. Let me know what you find.' He replies and she nods. Robin doesn't understand their fluidity in this atmosphere. How do they know what this place is if they're seeing it for the first time? Or is he who is seeing it for the first time? They demonstrate a sense of comfort.

'What is this place?' Robin questions and the Doctor joins Rose by the console, she's pulled up data logs and is hastily scrolling through them.

'A spaceship. More twenty ninth century than twelfth. Rose, have you located where the ship was headed?' The Doctor scans the logs she's reading.

'The…the Promised Land,' Rose straights up and she and the Doctor exchange worrisome looks. 'This isn't the first time we've heard that name. But what is it? A planet? A place? That's tangible?'

'Our friend, the Half-Faced Man was going there. Though I doubt he made it.'

Rose frowns. 'All faiths believe in something after life. But…this doesn't feel right. It's like a calling or…a signal. A blip that's being sent out far and wide. And people are hearing it, all corners of the galaxies. Like a summoning's.'

The Doctor sighs. 'I wish you hadn't used the word summoning's. The difference with this ship than the Half-Faced Man is the sophistication. This has the ability to disguise itself as a twelfth century castle.'

Rose snaps her fingers. 'People won't be suspicious if it's something they're used to seeing. It's built a scene around itself.'

'Of course, brilliant. It merges into the culture, tries to keep a low profile so no one notices,' The Doctor and Rose smile at one another, Robin is lost in their meaning entirely. Rose hits a button and graphics display the ship landing with the pointed end upwards as it pretends to be the central keep. 'That certainly explains the robot knights.'

Rose strikes another key. 'But look at the damage report I managed to find after the crash. Look at the engines. It proves another theory you had…'

The Doctor leans forward to examine the report and shakes his head. 'They're leaking radiation into the local atmosphere, creating a temporary climate of staggering benevolence.'

'I beg pardon?' Robin cuts in and the Doctor sighs audibly.

'I told you. It's too sunny. It's too green. And there is even an evil sheriff to oppress the locals. This explains everything, even you.'

'Whoa, hang on.' Rose interjects but the Doctor holds out his hand to her, telling her to stop while he focuses solely on Robin. Rose had agreed with him up to the adversely sunny skies and emerald foliage. But that where it stopped. He's back to his accusatory ways.

'It does?' Robin wonders innocently and the Doctor smirks at him as though they're sharing a secret, but Robin doesn't know what it is. The Doctor hits something on the keyboard and Rose widens her eyes.

'Well, what does every oppressed peasant workforce need? The illusion of hope. Some silly story to get them through the day, lull them into docility, and keep them working.' The Doctor motions him to come forward to look.

'Doctor, no. Stop. This explains nothing except the abnormalities of our surroundings.'

'Rose, stop being so blind to this, please, you're better than this. Robin, come here and see. This ship's data banks. Full of every myth and legend you could hope for, including Robin Hood.'

'Doctor enough!' Rose demands and his still smirks, shaking his head as Robin cautious approaches them and looks at the data banks as images come to life before his eyes. Various books and illustrations appear and disappear with new ones. There is a photograph that shows people dressed as Robin himself is. Robin stares stunned, utterly perplexed by what it means. But the Doctor is relentless and out to prove something Robin isn't sure exists. He's becoming more aggressive and demanding.

'Isn't it time you came clean with me? You're not real and you know it,' The Doctor states firmly and he drowns out Rose's protests by speaking louder. The attacks become more personal and Robin begins to grow angry. 'Look at you. Perfect eyes, perfect teeth. Nobody has a jawline like that. You're as much a part of what is happening here as the Sheriff and his metal knights. You're a robot.'

Robin glares at the Doctor at a loss for words. 'You dare to accuse me of collusion with that villain, the Sheriff?'

The Doctor grins. 'I dare.'

'You false tongued knave. I should have skewered you when I had the chance.' Spat Robin, he has his fists clenched at his sides and they glare at one another.

'That's enough!' Rose shouts and comes between the two of them, holding the Doctor back. 'I don't know what your problem is, but it is plainly evident that he is a real person.'

'The only problem is that you continue to believe that this man is real, Rose. He isn't. He's part of the illusion built by this ship!'

'I am not a robot!' Robin shouts and the Doctor steps around Rose to confront Robin once again.

'You are. You need to realise, accept it. You've simply forgotten.' The Doctor assures him and Rose yanks him back again by his jacket collar. She's seething. He can see it; her cheeks are tinged pink and she's breathing heavily.

'There are more important things to worry about at this moment than your incorrect ideals about Robin. Do you hear me? No, enough of this. No more arguing about this matter. I'm serious.' Rose warns, her voice is low, barely above a whisper, and Robin and the Doctor continue to glower at one another for a few more seconds before Robin exhales. He tries to gather himself once again.

'Thank you, Rose.' Robin replies, putting his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and Rose smiles weakly at him, covering his hand with her own.

'You're welcome.'

'Oh, I can't believe the two of you…' The Doctor mutters and Rose is about to go off on him once more when the metal doors are blasted inward, colliding with the walls and bouncing off, creating a loud bang and everyone jumps from the surprise.

Rose looks to the doors to see laser burns on them and as the smoke settles the Sheriff enters swiftly with his knights and Clara held tightly in his hand. Rose is relieved to see her in one piece and they acknowledge one another.

The Sheriff draws his dagger and points it squarely at Robin. 'Surrender, outlaw.'

Robin remains silent and Rose readies herself for a fight. She figures if she can disable the Sheriff then hopefully the robot knights will be at a loss for direction. Hopefully. Though she has a little inkling that those robots don't really need the Sheriff, and he doesn't know he's actually being used – that he isn't in control of them.

The Doctor ambles around a bit, bored by this interaction. 'Very good.'

The Sheriff turns up to the knights and points out Robin to them. 'Kill him. Kill Robin Hood.'

The Doctor folds his arms and rolls his eyes at this situation. Honestly, he must give credit where credit is due. They have had this charade going for so long now that everyone is playing their part so well, right to the bitter end. Even the tension in the air is something he enjoys feeling, but truth be told, this act has grown stale and now it's time for everyone to drop it. They have robots to stop.

'You can drop all that stuff now, Sheriff.' The Doctor instructs and the Sheriff eyes him suspiciously. Rose turns to him with a livid expression.

'Doctor?' Clara calls over in confusion.

'I told you to drop it. You should be putting this much effort in to stopping the Sheriff and the robots.' Rose chides and the Doctor dismisses her. The tension shifts to being awkward. No one is sure what to say or do. The Doctor points to Robin and the Sheriff waits for him to continue and so he releases Clara's arm. She stands there stunned.

'He is not what you think he is. This is all play acting.'

Clara covers her mouth in horror. 'We can't just let them kill him!'

'You're not fooling anyone, Sheriff.'

The Doctor puts his hands behind his back and waits while the Sheriff is debating and attempting to make sense of all this drivel. What does he mean play acting? That these knights are simply people? This man was at the contest, he clearly saw these are indeed mechanical men. Does this man believe that this outlaw he has been trying to capture and quell is someone different? All of this speculation is taking time away from what he came here to do. This is the moment he has been waiting such a very long time for. The moment will live in infamy as the day he successfully killed Robin Hood. The menace to Nottingham. The Sheriff looks back to the knights and nods his head.

A knight steps forward and a purple beam emits from the cross on its forehead. The blast is shot off and its direct path nearly strikes Robin. It is only successful enough to knock him off his feet. He rolls a few times and is stunned by the heat he felt from that shot. Had he not moved a couple of feet back the moment he saw the Sheriff give affirmation to fire, he might not be alive at this moment. Rose calls to him and Clara rushes to his side, she comes between Robin and the knight and Rose keeps Clara safe by stepping in the path of the attacker.

Robin is slow to his feet but when he sees the purple cross ignite with power once more he springs to action. He can trust Rose to fight her way out. She will use her wits and abilities to do so. The Doctor he could care less for and quickly puts him out of her mind. But Clara…she must be protected. And so he lunges forward and secures his arm in a tight grip around her waist. It shocks Clara and she turns over her shoulder to see Robin backing them up towards a window.

'What the hell are you doing?!' She hollers and Rose turns back to them in fear. The Doctor begins to take a step towards them and is fearful for Clara.

'Surviving.' Robin states coldly and he locks eyes with Rose. She gives him a look that tells him they will be fine, or at least she will be. It confirms his thoughts, but she also says to take care of Clara and to stay safe. And that she's sorry. He nods his head and closes his eyes as he continues moving backwards to the window.

'No!' Clara cries out as they fall backwards. Rose lowers her hands to her sides and walks to the window. The Doctor rushes by her to see for himself and together they stare out to the moat where a substantial splash is heard.

'No! Clara!' The Doctor calls out the window and from the full moon's reflection rippling in the water, it's too hard to say if they were successful in surviving the fall. Rose knows they were. She has to believe it. She turns to the Sheriff who looks almost bored.

'Yeah, sorry about the girl,' The Sheriff sheathes the dagger and shakes his head. 'Such a pretty thing. What a queen she would have made. Though just as well…I might have a replacement ready…' He sizes Rose up who flings him a disgusted look.

Rose laughs at him and folds her arms. 'Get this right, mate, I'm nobody's second choice.'

'You may change your mind when you find out where you're going.' The Sheriff baits and turns away, thinking he has her. Rose and the Doctor see that Robin has climbed out of the water and carefully picks up Clara in his arms. She breathes a sigh of relief and the Doctor continues to watch the spot they were in long after they've disappeared.

'I highly doubt that.' Rose counters and the Sheriff stops and turns to her.

'Watch your tone.'

'No.'

'Stop pretending,' The Doctor sighs exasperated. 'You and your fancy robots. I get it. I understand.'

'Oh, so you too know my plans?' The Sheriff wonders a little disappointed. How did he go so long with none of the simple folk figuring out what he was doing and along comes this trio of oddballs and they figure it out in seconds?

'You and your robots plundering the surrounding countryside for all it's worth. Gold. Gold. Of course. You are creating a matrix of gold to repair the engine circuitry.'

The Sheriff folds his arms together. 'This is the scheme the Mechanicals have devised. Soon this skyship will depart. Destination, London. There I will obliterate the King and take my rightful place as ruler of this sceptre isle.

Rose turns to the Doctor. 'See that's the only fairy tale like part. A blend of science fiction and human idiocy.'

'She's right. It won't work. There's not a chance. I've seen the instruments. There's been too much damage. You are stoking up a gigantic bomb!' The Doctor informs him and the Sheriff shakes his head and smiles simply at the Doctor. A knight appears behind him and before Rose can tell him to watch out the knight has struck the Doctor on the back of the head. He crumples to the ground.

'Doctor!' Rose cries and drops to her knees and turns him over. She attempts to rouse him several times but that knock to the head has sent him into a strong bout of unconsciousness. But everything seems to be stable with him. Rose glares at the Sheriff who is impatiently waiting for her to get to her feet. 'Question for you.'

'Really, my dear? I would hate for you to end up like your friend there.' The Sheriff nods to the knights and they push Rose out of the way and she falls to the side. She widens her eyes as the knights haul the Doctor up and begin to move him somewhere else. Rose gets to her feet as fast as she can.

'Oi!' She shouts and begins to rush after them when the Sheriff reaches forward and secures Rose by her arm, preventing her from following the knights and they disappear out the door, out of her line of vision. She nearly panics. 'Get your hand off me.'

'Given a bit of time, my Lady, I'm certain you will warm up to me. And my advances.' The Sheriff informs her and Rose swallows a lump in her throat.

'I thought I told you that I am not anyone's second choice. Release me. Or you'll regret it.' Rose warns and the Sheriff laughs at her threat. He uses his free hand to wrap around her waist and pull her closer. Rose immediately flings her hand out to stop him.

'I am starting a revolution, my Lady, do you not wish to be a part of that? It ends with you being Queen of England. Of the world. The only title befitting such a beauty as yourself.' The Sheriff says and Rose crinkles her nose in disgust.

'Bet you say that to all the fair maidens of the land,' Rose smiles demurely and the Sheriff takes the bait. She steels her façade and shakes her head. 'But let's get to the point here. I've been in both the French and Russian revolutions and let me tell you something, there is always a loser and innocent people get hurt. England has a perfectly good ruler in King Richard's absence and it certainly isn't John, it's Eleanor. And finally, thanks for the compliment but that isn't going help you from what I'm about to do.'

'Which is…?'

'This,' Rose throws her head into the Sheriff's and he stumbles back with his hand to his head and Rose next throws her fist into his throat. He splutters and coughs violently as he reaches for his dagger which Rose had anticipated and holds it in her hand so he can see it. 'Nicked it earlier.'

'You little retch…' The Sheriff wheezes and points to her. She jumps back when she sees the knights return. Three of them. The begin to advance towards her. 'Seize her. I want her doing the hardest labour possible. You will pay for your transgressions.'

'Nah mate, you will.' Rose blows a kiss and takes off running. A knight closest to her makes a grab for her but she easily out manoeuvres it. She rushes into the hallway but ducks when a violet laser is shot at the wall in front of her.

She decides not to go back the way they originally came and goes left. She can hear the clunk of the knights' footsteps behind her and the sound of one of them gearing up to fire another shot at her. Problem? She has no idea where the Doctor could be or how to find him. She imagines he wouldn't have been put back into the cell they were in earlier. But where else would he be taken to? What did the Sheriff say? He wanted her doing the hardest labour possible. Why? Gold. He's been extracting gold and who does he have mining it? The townspeople. The poorest folk. Where does labour like that happen? A basement. She needs to get to a descending stairwell.

She gasps and cries out as she feels the heat from the laser whiz past her and strike the wall at an angle. Their aim is getting a little bit better. She finally spies a stairwell and is about to make the sharp right when pain erupts from her left shoulder. She doesn't stop to look, she bites her lip and ups the ante. However, given the fact that it could have torn her arm off, she hopes it's nothing more than a violent graze. She begins to descend the stairs another blast rocks above her and she nearly loses her footing, she tries to steady herself by raising her left arm to grip the wall but it's too heavy and she can't move it. It merely hangs there. Gotta get below. Move, move, she tells herself.

The next attempt to hit her strikes the stair she only seconds had been standing on. The force from the aftershock sends her forward down the stairs and each stone step she hits as she tumbles down eats into her body by taking vicious bites. She attempts to keep her head protected at all costs but she hits it on the last stone stair and lies there dazed for a few seconds, pain flowering out. She worries that the knights will follow her and so with the reserves of strength rapidly fading, she military crawls to a second of wall hidden by the stairs, the blood from some wound is getting in her vision and she doesn't even have the strength to wipe it away.

Rose props herself up and lowers her breathing. She listens for a moment but hears nothing, so she decides that it is the perfect time to close her eyes. She hears voices from far away. It isn't enough to keep her conscious.

* * *

It feels hot wherever he is. He can smell the labour and death around him but when he attempts to open his eyes his head immediately begins throbbing so he closes his eyes. What does he last remember? Taunting the Sheriff. Rose was there and then darkness. How long has he been out? Where is he? And where's Rose? He makes another effort to open his eyes. He is able to keep them open for longer than the last time. That's good.

 _Engine capacity at forty eight percent._

Who said that? The Doctor immediately sits up and ignores the head rush he experiences. He watches a knight carry a gold circuit board away. No, forty-eight? And that bumbling Sheriff wants to fly this spaceship with those odds? The man's a fool.

'It's not enough. That's not enough. It'll never make orbit,' The Doctor remarks at a passing knight but it doesn't even give him the time of day. He studies his surroundings. Amongst the wails and groans of downtrodden humans there is a mechanical noise. Something has come alive. And it isn't good. 'That's the engines, building power. Stupid, stupid Sheriff,' he looks around again to try and spot Rose but strains as his wrists are once again back in chains behind his back. 'You've got to be bloody well kidding me. Rose?! Oh, go on! Give, you stupid things. What are you looking at?'

The young woman with chestnut hair looks away at the angry man the knights brought over some time in the middle of the night. He never awoke or stirred. She can see why, she nearly preferred him in the other state. She wipes her brow with the back of her hand and decides to help this surly man as best she can. She gets up and cautiously heads towards the man who continues to eye her suspiciously. She drops to her knees and peers around him, inspecting the chains.

'These should be simple enough to remove.' She offers and the man strains against the chains as a demonstration to get on with it.

'How long you been down here?' He questions and again she wipes her brow with her forearm, she gives him a hard look.

'Long enough.'

'Did you see those metal tin cans bring down another woman? Blonde hair in a braid? Wearing a green shirt, black pants and black jacket?' The Doctor wonders and the woman is silent while she continues to work on the chains.

'No one has come down here recently matching that description.'

That wasn't the answer he had been hoping for. 'Please ask anyone and everyone. Knowing Rose, she'd be propositioned by the Sheriff, turn him down and I know she's down here.'

'I will do that, sir,' The woman assures him and she looks over her shoulder at the anguished moans from her fellow citizens. She turns back to the man. 'I think I understood some of what you were saying. The Sheriff is using gold to replace something.'

'That's the principle. But he's a moron. If he tries to fly this ship, it'll explode and wipe out half the country,' The Doctor looks around and sees nothing but dejection and hopelessness. Well he knows just the thing to inspire the people of Nottingham. 'What we need is a little riot. Time to reflect on lasers and gold. Spread the word, while you're spreading the word about Rose.'

The woman draws herself back and the Doctor pulls his wrists forward. Free at last. The woman disappears to rouse some support for this rebellion, grabbing a few gold plates as she goes – good girl he watches her round a corner. While she does that, he meanders around, looking for any sign of Rose. He passes by people who are physically exhausted, they can move no further, old and young, being worked to death. All for the purpose of conquering world? He will put a stop to this.

He continues to walk past people huddled in corners trying to make themselves as small as possible and to draw little attention. Some children try to rouse older people awake. The Doctor can tell that they've already died. He looks away. He walks by a corner and then stops, walking backward to see if his eye caught what he thought. He did. He spots a long leg in black and he nearly applauds her hiding spot. He rushes to her.

'Rose!' He calls but she doesn't move and when he lays eyes on her, he can see why. She's unconscious on her back, a small puddle of blood is under her head and left shoulder. Aside from being pale –which worries him – he kneels down and scoops her up into his arms. Despite the relentless heat, she's a little cold.

He hopes she didn't take on those knights, she'd have known better. He rubs her right arm a few times as he tucks her under his chin and keeps her close. Suddenly everything they fought about seems idiotic and pointless. _C'mon, you're tough. Let's go…_ he silently tells her, hoping she'd hear him as he calls her name.

She gasps and sits up abruptly, leaning forward in his lap as she cries out from the pain in her shoulder. She brings her hands to her head to squeeze the pain out. He takes her hands away and she stares at him through blurred vision. He slides off her jacket and is horrified by the chunk taken out of her shoulder.

'How bad is it? Cause it feels pretty bad.'

'Scale of one to ten?' The Doctor wonders and peels her shirt back lightly. Rose exhales the pain as the blood has dried with the shirt attached to the wound.

'Yeah.'

'Twelve.'

'Damn…' Rose presses around her head to feel for the slice she knows is here. When her fingers brush it, she nearly leaps through the roof and grips the Doctor's hand so tight he winces. 'I know what you're going to say…'

'Do you?'

'Yeah, and I was running away from trouble.'

'After you started it?' The Doctor surmises and carefully helps Rose to her feet. Her vision doubles and she wraps her arms around the Doctor's waist to hold herself up.

'Yeah…obviously…'

'Obviously…' The Doctor repeats and sighs. Rose glances up to him, the castle is dimly lit down here and she still feels as though it's too bright.

'I have something from Jupiter that accelerates the healing factor. I just have to get to the TARDIS and get it. But sorry…I'm out of commission,' Rose pauses and shuts her eyes tightly. 'How long have I been down here? Where's the Sheriff? What are the engines at?'

'Slow down, I have a plan to get rid of these knights. But you should stay here. Keep a low profile. I'll come back for you.' The Doctor takes Rose's hand and bring it to his lips. Rose looks up to him.

'Promise?' She wonders and closes her eyes when the Doctor places a kiss on her head.

'Promise.' He helps her sit down and she closes her eyes, though the pain is still evident on her face. He rushes back to where he was earlier.

He bumps into the young woman from earlier and she nods her head at him. Together they walk the rest of the way and she keeps her voice low, nodding at a few groups of people that have begun to follow them – plates tucked under their arms.

'I have managed to gather supporters.'

'So I see.'

'But I have not had much luck locating your friend.' The woman admits and the Doctor dismisses it.

'Never mind bout that,' The Doctor stops walking and the rest of the people halt as well. He gathers them around and the woman leans in to hear his speech. 'Now, this is what we're going to do…'

After a few seconds, the little crowd breaks up and takes their places. The Doctor looks over to the young brunette and nods his head. She readies herself and closes her eyes. Show time.

* * *

It appears that they do not have to wait too long. The Doctor's thoughts are consumed by Rose's condition, hoping she's okay and then jumping over to Clara, wondering if she too is safe. The only thing that bothers him – that he doesn't really have time to think about at the moment – is how the water didn't affect Robin's circuits. Must be sealed aptly well for water not to damage anything. Or maybe it has…who knows. His thoughts run back to Rose. He wishes that this could run through at a faster pace. He glances over to the huddles of people. Some of them won't make it. And for that he feels bad. However, that's the price paid for a rebellion. Good people don't always make it.

He hears the trudging of heavy footfalls. A knight is approaching. He locks eyes with the woman and she nods. A shadow looms over top of him. He waits for the knight to complete the scan of him while the woman edges closer to him. The knight draws a step back.

'You are fit for labour,' The knight declares and lowers his gaze to the young woman. 'Stand aside while this peasant unit is freed.'

'I'm afraid you're a little late.' The Doctor replies and the knight continues to loom over him.

'Explain.'

'I'm already free!' The Doctor shows the knight his unbound hands and the knight begins to power up the violet cross on his head. He nods to the woman and she readies herself.

As the knight fires off the beam the Doctor reflects it off a golden plate and it strikes the wall sending stone debris and dust everywhere. The knight fires off another laser, which the Doctor reflects once more and this time the woman also aims her plate as well, the laser bounces off her plate and hits the knight in the back of the head. He explodes, falling to pieces on the floor. Seconds pass before a throng of knights arrive to quell the uprising. The people are ready. They have massive plates for shields and after a few tense seconds, a knight fires off a laser and it ricochets off the plates.

It starts a frenzy. More knights fire off more rounds. They are reflected. Sometimes striking a knight, and other times it strikes a worker. Bodies and piles of disintegrated ones lie scattered all around. Chaos begins. People start screaming as they run away, trying to block the lasers as they go, some are successful. Some aren't. Those that choose to stay band together and unleash hell on the knights – who, one by one, begin to be picked off. The band of humans advance on the knights until there is only a solitary one remaining.

'Everyone, the last one!'

The band fans out and encircles the final knight, plates held tightly and reflective surfaces glint on the knight's armour. Undeterred the knight fires off a violet beam and it bounces multiple times, each plate it strikes causes the holder to step back from the force. Faster the beam rounds the plates until finally it returns to its sender, only this time it is multiplied by several times. A loud explosion causes everyone to shield their eyes and when the dust settles there is nothing left in their path. Celebrations erupt. Until the Doctor quashes them, as they are still in very real danger.

'Out, out! Everyone, quickly, get out. Quickly!' The Doctor shouts and the crowds don't need to be told twice, they start to hustle for the exits. The young woman stops when she sees the Doctor and gives him a wide smile.

'You've saved us all, clever one,' she embraces the Doctor and places a quick kiss on his cheek. 'Thank you.'

The Doctor looks away, slightly embarrassed. 'You're welcome. Make sure everyone who can, makes it out of here. Now go, go!'

She nods and runs for the exit, passing a lone figure standing there in the shadows. The Doctor turns around as a voice floats overhead.

 _Engine capacity at eighty two percent._

'Sounds like we need to get a move on.'

The Doctor turns around and sees Rose carefully makes her way towards him. Her left arm is pressed close against her chest to keep it from hanging down and pulling on the shoulder wound. She also has some bruising on the side of her face that he hadn't seen earlier, damn torch lighting. He inspects her carefully before Rose gives him a look that says enough fretting. How can he not?

'I thought you were supposed to wait for me?' He questions and leads her towards the exit.

'I had a nap and woke up fresh as a daisy,' Rose admits and the Doctor eyes her. 'Fine. I have a splitting headache.'

'We'll get back to the TARDIS and you can sleep all you want.'

'You are indeed an ingenious fellow, Doctor. But do you really think your peasants' revolt can stop me?' A voice bellows overhead and Rose and the Doctor halt to see the Sheriff with a cocky smirk impeding their way out. He nods at Rose who nearly marches up to him to wipe that god forsaken smirk off his face.

'That revolt comment will ring true in 1381…' Rose comments to the Doctor and he can't help but grin. He was there for Wat Tyler's rebellion. Good man, misguided and a bit of a stabber, reminded him a lot of Rose. They _have_ to be related. A mystery for another time.

'My Lady Rose, such a state you're in. I guess I won't be the one who loses after all.' The Sheriff comments and Rose presses her lips together. She squares herself and ignores the immense pain from her shoulder.

'Come over here and say that. I've still got enough in me to wipe the floor with you,' Rose replies and takes a few steps forward. She's surprised to see the Sheriff take a step back. 'Want me to come over there?'

'Enough. I have to admit I'm with Rose on this one, like always. I rather think you're the revolting one around here,' he pauses and looks at Rose who is eyeing him. 'I'm bantering. Listen to me. You don't have enough gold content to seal the engine breach. If you try and take off, you'll wipe out half of England.'

The Sheriff laughs. 'Liar! From my sky vessel, I shall rule omnipotent.'

'Oh, you egotistical man, what are you gonna rule? A smoking crater? Yeah? There's a title for you. Sheriff of Nottingham rules giant crater where England used to be. I can see it now. I know I'd be jealous of that.' Rose replies angry and the Sheriff glowers at her. She blows him a kiss.

'Shut down the engines, you pudding-headed primitive. What you're doing will alter the course of history.' The Doctor informs him and the Sheriff brushes off the Doctor's comment and picks up a defeated knight's head that lay on the ground by his feet.

'I sincerely hope so, or I wouldn't be bothering.' The Sheriff tosses the knight's head into the crucible. It dissolves.

The Doctor attempts another angle. 'Listen to me. It doesn't have to end like this. Shut it all down, return Clara to me and I'll do what I can.'

'Doctor, the Sheriff doesn't have Clara…I thought we were past this.' Rose informs him and the Doctor turns to her already shaking his head at her.

'Yes, he does. Don't you?' The Doctor returns his gaze to the Sheriff who is now locked in a gaze with Rose. Both of whom show confusion before they shift their stare back to the Doctor. Oh, he must have missed something…

'I don't have Clara.' The Sheriff confirms and the Doctor glances to Rose who has her eyebrow raised at him. Interesting. How he hates being wrong in public…but wait he can't be wrong…no, he's certain he's right in this.

'Why did you think the Sheriff has her? We saw her fall out of the window with Robin. They escaped, probably gone back to the hideout.' Rose reminds him and the Doctor points quickly to the Sheriff.

'Because Robin's one of yours.' The Doctor answers and he can see the rage he's stoked in the Sheriff with that comment.

'What did you say?'

Maybe if he continues to say it with conviction, it'll be truer. 'He's one of your tin headed puppets, just like these brutes here.' He motions to the knights and the Sheriff chuckles out of disbelief.

'Robin Hood is not one of mine.' The Sheriff confirms and the Doctor folds his arms. This lie is getting out of hand. Rose can't form a thought because she's kind of enjoying this moment. The Doctor hates being wrong in public…well…

'Of course he is. He's a robot, created by your mechanical mates.' The Doctor replies and the Sheriff folds his arms rather enjoying this banter back and forth. For man who claims he's brilliant…he's rather dull.

'Why would they do that?'

'To pacify the locals, give them false hope. He's the opiate of the masses.' The Doctor explains, again, with conviction in his voice. Rose pinches the bridge of her nose.

'Doctor, do you realise how much sense that _doesn't_ make? Think about your logic for a second.' Rose questions and the Sheriff sighs.

'I hate to admit it, but Rose is correct. Why would we create an enemy to fight us? What sense would that make? That would be a terrible idea.' The Sheriff adds and the Doctor snaps his fingers.

'Yes! Yes, it would. Wouldn't it? Yes, that would be a rubbish idea. Why would you do that?' The Doctor repeats and Rose is nodding her head at him when he looks over to her for guidance. She has a crooked smirk she can't stop.

'Admit it…' Rose tells him and he shakes his head, still in that final phase of denial. Oh, she'll get him there. 'Go on. Say it…you've been denouncing it since we got here. Go on. I wanna hear you say it.'

'He can't be…he's not real. He's a legend!' The Doctor cries and Rose holds her right arm out as if it says it all.

'And what'd I say to you? Legends are based off of people. You spoke to a legend.' Rose mocks and the Doctor stares dumbfounded, she can see him processing the links and he doesn't like it. She wants to laugh out loud.

'Too kind of words, Rose! And this legend does not come alone.'

Everyone's stare is moved up to the gallery. There Robin is standing, grinning at them and from around him, Clara emerges, waving and beaming.

'Hiya!'

Robin motions to Clara and she grabs a hold of him. He sticks his dagger into a tapestry hanging on the closest wall and slides down until he's reached the ground. Clara lets go and Robin turns to her. She's grinning from ear to ear.

'You all right?' He questions quickly and Clara claps him on the back.

'Hell yeah!'

'Good,' Robin turns to the Sheriff who is struggling to keep composed. Clara rushes over to Rose and inspects her thoroughly. 'My men have taken the castle.'

'No!' The Sheriff seethes and glances to this rag tag team of bumbling fools. How did they manage to defeat him? Who did he underestimate? Which one? He had the power of machines. They? They had nothing.

'And now, I'm going to take you.' Robin declares and the knights begin to advance towards them. Robin banks on the fact that the Sheriff will choose to do this battle alone. His ego won't let him allow for another to take his victory. The Doctor had been right. He couldn't take those machines on by himself. So, with his heart beating wildly, he waits to see what the Sheriff will do.

'This one's all mine,' The Sheriff declares and reaches up to the amulet hanging around his neck. He presses a button and the knights that flank him are deactivated. He draws his sword. 'What do you say, outlaw? A final reckoning?'

'Oh, yes.'

With both swords drawn, Robin makes the first moving, lunging towards the Sheriff with his sword low. The Sheriff easily counters it and the swords ting off one another. Robin spin and thrusts the sword hoping to strike the Sheriff in the stomach, but he counters once more and drives his elbow into Robin's face. He stumbles back stunned and the Sheriff merely arches his eyebrow. So, this will not be a fair fight? All the better.

The Doctor moves to Clara and Rose, who seems to be looking a bit paler, and Clara in turn embraces him tightly. He holds her at arm's length to make sure she's okay.

'You're good?' He wonders and secures Rose by her waist.

'Yeah, good, fine. What happened?'

'First. We don't have long. Second, Rose took on the knights and well, end result.' The Doctor explains and Rose eyes him.

'No, it was me taunting the Sheriff and running from the knights who then shot me down a flight of stairs.' Rose sighs and Clara widens her eyes.

'Ouch! You okay?'

'I've had worse…'

Everyone pauses when the castle beings to rumble and shake, stone begins to fall and break apart as the tremors don't seem to be letting up. Rose looks at the ceiling precariously. It could come crashing down at any moment. She and the Doctor exchange tense looks. He wants to go now. Stop what they can. However, he knows that she and Clara will wait out the duel. Though they know who will win, they want to leave in one group. And so they have to be patient.

'I shall avenge every slight, outlaw.' The Sheriff promises and another tremor from the castle tests everyone balance. When it stops, Clara looks up to the Doctor worried.

'Doctor…'

'I know. The whole castle's about to blow.'

Robin ducks from a swing the Sheriff takes at him. This time Robin throws a punch, catching the Sheriff in the right eye. He staggers back laughing out of impatience.

'You have long been a thorn in my side.'

Robin shrugs and swings at the Sheriff. 'Well, everyone should have a hobby. Mine's annoying you.'

'I'll have you boiled in oil at the castle by sunset.' The Sheriff charges at Robin and the move around the room as they continue to trade blows. Rose can't help but hold his arms out and shrugs, charging the Sheriff again. They move with ease around one another, evenly matched.

In fact, Rose waits to see if the Sheriff will cheat or not as she fully expects him to. Any attempt that he makes to strike Robin, he easily avoids. The swords continue to ting off one another.

'Can we make it a little earlier? Cause that's a little past my bedtime.' Robin wonders and grabs a hold of a strand of rope. He cuts it and flies up to a crossbeam where he lands with grace. The Sheriff laughs and heads to a nearby rope, slicing it and it too send him up to the air and he steps onto the crossbeam, conveniently placed above the crucible. The molten gold bubbling nosily above them, reminding them of what they stand to lose.

The Sheriff brushes his hair from his eyes and grins. 'I'm too much for you, outlaw. The first of a new breed. Half man, half engine. Never ageing, never tiring.'

Robin rolls his eyes and thrusts the sword at the Sheriff who blocks low. 'Are you still talking?'

Enraged by the comment, the Sheriff raises his hand above him and Robin attempts to take a step back but it's a fraction of a second too late. The Sheriff slices through Robin's arm and he winces, dropping the sword which tumbles to the ground. He covers it and looks up at the Sheriff.

Rose, the Doctor and Clara watch the sword tumble to the ground, clattering and they then glance up again. He's unarmed. Rose looks from the sword to the crossbeam. There isn't any way of getting up to him unless she goes on the railing and tries to lob it over to him, she's doubtful even that work and so she holds her breath. Clara twists her sleeves mercilessly, watching and hoping and wondering what Robin will do to get out of this one. She wants to cry out when she sees that he stands tall and holds his arms out.

Rose widens her eyes at his strategy, she is praying it will work and the Sheriff will fall for it. The Doctor leans into her and whispers quietly.

'I taught him that…'

'You cheated…' Rose whispers back and he pulls away with a frown.

The Sheriff exhales his victory and becomes less tense as he points his sword at Robin's chest. 'Bow down before your new king, you prince of knaves!' The Sheriff charges Robin and Rose presses her lips together, counting the seconds down until she reaches one and Robin turns so that they are back to back.

The Sheriff attempts to turn back around, stunned by the manoeuvre, however Robin lifts his leg and kicks the Sheriff in the back of the knee. Gravity pulls him down as he leaned forward to try and get his balance and he tumbles right into the crucible. Instantly becoming covered in liquid gold, it hardens and his screams of agony are silenced, the liquid gold continues to slosh in the crucible, staining the ground as it spills out. Robin easily descends from the crossbeam on the rope, a triumphant smirk on his face.

'Sorry. Was that, er, showing off?' He wonders innocently and Rose embraces him, wide smile on her face. She pulls away and Clara is in front of him, hands clasped together.

'That was, amazing!'

The cheeriness of the victory is demolished when the castle again begins to violently shake. More stone begins to crumble around their feet. Robin takes Rose's hand the they begin to follow the Doctor as he leads them out of the castle. They avoid hunks of masonry as it detaches from the wall. The Doctor holds onto Clara's hand tightly as they run as fast as they can to the entrance, dust settles in the air as the ground continues to rumble under their feet.

Daylight is seen as the pass into the final hall and they rush towards it. They barely manage to cross the drawbridge as the exterior stones loosen from the façade and crumble. The make it out just in time and cross the moat when they see Robin's men ushering them on. Robin glances down to Rose who nods and they put forth a burst of speed. They turn around just in time to see the masonry collapse and the spaceship breaks free, climbing into the sky in a diminished capacity.

The Doctor is shaking his head. 'It's never going to make it. Not enough gold. It'll never make it into orbit,' he pauses and widens his eyes, looking around and patting his jacket down. He's frowning and checking pockets. 'Where is it? Where did it go?'

'Where did what go?' Clara questions desperately and Robin pulls out a piece of cloth to press it to Rose's shoulder. All the aggravated running cause the skin to split. She gives him a weary smile.

'The golden arrow.'

Robin's head snaps up and he points. 'Tuck!'

'You took it?' The Doctor wonders and all eyes fall on Tuck. He clears his throat sheepishly and reaches into his shirt, revealing the arrow.

'Of course we did. We're robbers.' Tuck states firmly and the Doctor's face breaks out into a wide grin.

'I love you boys.' The Doctor declares and Robin and Rose exchange a smirk.

Even Clara can't believe what he just said, but also about this last attempt to propel the ship into the atmosphere. 'Doctor, what are you suggesting?'

'Golden arrow,' he moves in his fingers. 'Might just be enough gold content to get the ship into orbit and out of harm's way.'

Clara widens her eyes and grins. The Doctor attempts to hand Robin the arrow but he shakes his head at him, showing him the slice on his arm.

'No, it has to be you. My arm is injured.' Robin reminds him and he panics, looking to Rose who shakes her head at him.

'You need two hands for that, I've only got one. Go on. You showed your chops at the contest,' Rose encourages and he eyes her. But he can barely get the arrow onto the bowstring, fumbling along the way and wasting precious seconds. Rose arches her eyebrow. 'Something you'd like to share, Doctor?'

'Yeah, I mean, I saw you. You won the tournament.' Clara replies and the Doctor sighs.

'I cheated. I made a special arrow with a homing device.' He reveals and Rose narrows her eyes at him while Clara feels her jaw drop. Even Robin is alarmed by what he hears.

'You little sneak…' Rose trails off and Clara snatches the arrow from the Doctor.

'Oh, brilliant. Right, let me have a go.'

'You?' The Doctor questions stunned. 'You do Tae Kwon Do. That's not the same thing as this. Rose you have to try.'

'Even if I wanted to, I'd have to shoot left, just so I can string the bow back with my right. I'm sorry, I'm good, but I'm not ambidextrous.' Rose retorts and the Doctor rolls his eyes at her lack of effort.

'Would you learn? It comes in handy when moments like this happen.'

'Hey, I'm not the one who cheated.'

'My friends!' Robin interjects and immediately Rose and the Doctor fall silent. 'Surely we can manage together.'

Rose nods and Robin, Clara and the Doctor take a seat on the ground, setting themselves in a position to strike the spaceship while Rose keeps her eye on the target as it slowly moves into their vision. The Doctor and Clara each hold an end of the bow while Robin braces it with his foot. He pulls the bowstring back and Rose tells them to get ready – the spaceship is nearly there.

'Three…two…go!' She shouts and Robin releases the golden arrow and it sails gracefully through the air, upward, striking the ship directly in the middle of a roundel on an engine. They watch as the ship is propelled higher and it blasts into orbit with ease.

As it clears the atmosphere a large explosion happens, illuminating the sky. Debris begins to rain down on the countryside. Those townspeople who had escaped the castle had gathered to watch the spectacle. They erupt into cheers and celebrations. A lute is heard from Alan, only to be abruptly snatched away by Will.

Nottingham has been restored to normalcy.

* * *

Rose and the Doctor watch as Robin gives Clara a very personal archery lesson. He moves behind her, grabbing her hand to reposition it a few times, he whispers into her ear and Clara bites the corner of her lip in concentration. The Doctor turns to Rose.

'How's the shoulder.'

'Much better.' She slides her jacket off and moves her shirt back to reveal a bright pink patch of skin, where only hours ago was a bloody mess. Her headache also dispelled the moment she put a good helping to the cream she'd picked up from Jupiter. It has saved her skin – literally – more than once since she's picked it up. She puts her jacket back on again.

'Good thing you have that.' The Doctor comments and the sound of an arrow hitting a target draws their attention back to Clara and Robin.

Clara seems stunned she struck it and throws her hands up in victory, embracing Robin in triumph. 'Woo hoo!'

'Rose turns to the Doctor. 'Admit it, he's grown on you.'

'Never.'

'You're a terrible liar.'

Clara smiles at Robin. 'I am going to miss you. You're very naughty.'

Robin looks at Clara carefully and sighs. 'Oh, I know. Whoever he is, he is a very lucky man.'

'Marian is very lucky, too.' Clara assures him, she knows that Marian is out there. Waiting. They'll find one another soon. She truly believes that. And things will be all right again.

'I fear not.' He replies and Clara shakes her head. She takes his hand tightly.

'Don't give up. Not ever. Not for one single day,' Clara tells him seriously and places a light kiss on his cheek. He smiles again. 'Be safe, if you can. But always be amazing.'

'Hmm…' Robin trails off and Clara opens the TARDIS door, leaning out to get Rose and the Doctor in her line of vision. She holds up her hand to them and Rose acknowledges her.

'Goodbye, Robin Hood.'

'Goodbye, Clara Oswald.'

Clara winks at him and shuts the TARDIS door. Rose can see she's next and so she walks over to Robin, leaving the Doctor a few paces away. They embrace tightly and he lifts Rose off her feet. When he sets her down, he offers the bow and a single arrow and arches his eyebrow at her – a challenge. Rose eyes him with a crooked grin and strings the arrow up, squaring herself she eyes the target. She releases the arrow and while it does hit the bullseye, it is slightly high. She sighs.

'Not bad. But too high.'

Robin grins and throws his arm around her shoulders. 'A lady after my own heart.'

'Ah, that's not true. You're a flatterer.'

'True. But by god, Rose, I don't see many of you around.' Robin replies and Rose places her hand on his cheek.

'As you shouldn't,' she answers back coyly and they embrace again. 'I must say, this has truly been an honour. It has been so good to meet you.'

'I extend the compliment. I'm glad you were on our side.'

'When your reunion comes – I know it will be soon – I want you to seek adventure. Where it is, and wherever you go. Always be hope for people.' Rose drops her hand from his shoulder and Robin had lowered his gaze to her feet while she was speaking. When lifts it, Rose is touched by the sincerity in his eyes. A silent thank you for her kind words.

'I will do so with honour.'

'I know it,' Rose puts her hand on the TARDIS door and looks over her shoulder. 'Here's to you, Robin Hood. And your men. Farewell.'

'Rose, the pleasure has been all mine,' Robin places his hand on his heart and bows. Rose disappears into the TARDIS. The Doctor supposes this is his turn and walks towards Robin. They stand face to face and the Doctor is surprised to see Robin frowning. 'Is it true, Doctor?'

'Is what true?'

'That in the future I am forgotten as a real man? I am but a legend?' Robin questions and the Doctor folds his arms, nodding his head solemnly.

'I'm afraid it is.'

'Hm. Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.' Robin observes and it makes the Doctor smile. He puts his hand on Robin's shoulder.

'I'm still having a little trouble believing yours, I'm afraid.' The Doctor admits and Robin in turn places his hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

'Is it so hard to credit? That a man born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear…?' Robin wonders and the Doctor smiles before shaking his head. He makes a good point. What's so hard to believe? Rose's words ring in mind once again. Legends are based on the actions of others, based on someone who was real at one point. Only this legend has always been real, the details just got a little murky.

'No.' The Doctor replies Robin looks relieved.

'Until one night he is moved to steal a TARDIS? Fly among the stars, fighting the good fight. Clara told me your stories.' Robin adds when he observes the contentious look he's receiving from the Doctor. A look that says he has gotten a little too personal.

'She should not have told you any of that.'

'Well. Well, once the story started, she could hardly stop herself. You are her hero, I think.'

'I'm not a hero.' The Doctor replies, in a defeated tone. Robin smiles at him, trying to rouse his spirit.

'Well, neither am I. But if we both keep pretending to be,' he pauses to laugh. The Doctor suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. They were having a moment and he's gone and ruined it with laughter. 'Perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end.' Robin offers the Doctor his hand.

The Doctor looks to Robin's outstretched hand and grips it tightly. 'Well said.'

'Goodbye, Doctor. Time Lord of Gallifrey.'

'Goodbye, Robin Hood, Earl of Loxley.'

The Doctor is about to go in to the TARDIS when he pauses at Robin's final words to him.

'Remember, Doctor. I'm just as real as you are.'

The Doctor smirks to himself but doesn't turn around, instead he closes the door and goes to the console where Clara is waiting for him. He sets the TARDIS in motion and Robin watches the bright blue box slowly vanish before his eyes. Something he still isn't used to. His men have gathered around him and just as the box melts away into nothing, it reveals a lone figure standing not ten paces from where he is. He's stunned at who he sees. Even when she begins to call his name. Even as he runs to embrace her. He clings to her tightly.

Sometimes love makes you fly also.

* * *

Rose finishes towelling out her hair from a much-needed hot shower. She checks her shoulder in the mirror and is pleased to see that there will be minimum scarring. The pink patch of skin is growing fainter as the hours pass. She's exhausted.

She lies down on the bed and draws the covers around her, slowly nodding off – fully expecting to dream about medieval adventures when her mobile begins to ring. She frowns and looks at it from its spot on the side table. She lifts it up and is rather surprised by the number. She answers it.

'Bonjour…' she begins and listens to the frantic caller on the other side. They launch into a terrifying story involved a co-worker and she swallows her fear. 'Right. Okay. You're sure. You know sometimes he disappears off the grid for a break when the job is done. Oh. Okay. Last spot? Spokane? Washington? What was he doing there? Okay. Right, yeah. I'll see what I can find out. Merci…'

She closes her eyes and sighs. What kind of trouble has he gotten into now? Why hasn't he checked in? Rose hauls herself from the bed and looks for her gear. Another sleepless night. Well damn. She suits up and grabs a bag. Round two…

* * *

It's finally done. Haha, sorry it took so long to complete. Life just gets in the way sometimes. I hope you enjoy it, I do have a lot of ideas for this story arch. It's just getting to that point. And life is slowing me down. You might have noticed the Halloween theme at the beginning. That's when I started. It's taken me this long. Sorry. Thanks for sitting with me.

Now…I have a crazy idea I have never attempted before. But I was writing prototypes in my spare time to keep my mind active while this was being completed. Bear with me, but I would like to cross this arch over with Supernatural. I was just curious to see those who would be in favour. It isn't a massive deal, I've written some things down but I thought it would be fun.

Anyone interested in taking a weird journey with me…?

Let me know your thoughts!


	5. She's Blinded Me with Science

The towns were getting smaller and smaller as she travelled on. The people growing colder and more suspicious the deeper south she trekked, because she was an outsider in their view. When she would stop – kind of like she was now – for a break, to get something to eat and compile what she's learned so far on this journey in a local diner, she would open the front door and the locals would turn to see who it was, ready with a friendly greeting for someone they knew. Instead they would get her. Foreign and unwelcome – though no one would say anything. She'd feel the eyes upon and she took a seat to the rear of the diner, whispers starting and judgements a plenty to be had. Part of her wanted to make a stand, as sometimes she'd catch the whispers though other times she didn't – however, she's always outnumbered, so she dared not make a stand.

Hence the booth at the back, out of the way, quiet and not drawing attention to herself. Hey a girl has to eat. And she liked scoping out the local area she'd be staying in. Though, dated motels were not what she was expecting – on the flip side…she didn't know what to expect. She looks up and frowns at the patrons. They hold her gaze for a few seconds longer before moving them back forward. Rose sets her laptop on table and takes out her notebook.

She began scribbling in it for what felt like a lifetime when the waitress finally made her way over to her. She's been used to being forgotten about while on this trip. But it's never taken someone this long to notice her. For god sake, when she walked in, she's certain that time stopped.

Rose looks up to the middle-aged woman standing impatiently by her. Faded white blouse that's nearly grey, and worn black pants. Her blonde hair streaked with grey and a hard life has been etched onto her face. Her green eyes are murky and judgemental. She's tapping the pencil on the pad of paper. A signal to hurry this up. Hard to, since there are no menus at the table Rose can browse.

'Welcome to Misty's Café, what can I get you?' The woman says insincerely, with a thick southern drawl and Rose rests her elbows on the table. The suspicious crowds must be getting to Rose.

'Are you Misty?'

'No, that's the owner.'

'Good. I hoped you weren't the owner,' Rose retorts and the woman is stunned to silence, the chatter of the patrons also dies to near quiet. 'Can I get a burger, please? Water and coffee? Black.'

The woman didn't write any of it down. Rose fears she's going to have to repeat herself. 'A burger?' she finally repeats as if she can't believe it. 'What do you want on it? And before you ask, no, we don't have any of hoity totty stuff you get in the cities. We serve real food.'

'What do you define as hoity totty stuff?'

'Whatever you're used to getting in LA or New York. Organic this, gluten free that. Vegan, vegetarian, free range, whatever.' The woman assumes and Rose is taken back that despite her obvious accent, the woman named those two cities. She has been prejudged as being some broad from England out in America looking for an acting gig, modelling maybe?

'Not from either of those places, so good, I guess. I get that you don't have organic options. Just whatever comes on the burger.' Rose replies and the woman finally starts scribbling down.

'Lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles and ketchup.' The woman rattles off and Rose shrugs her shoulders in response.

'That all sounds fine.'

Again, there is a look of sceptic disbelief though she does jot down something on that pad of paper. Thankfully. She's getting rather hungry. Being in small towns like this make her uncomfortable. They are a constant reminder that she is the outsider here. That they will make no effort to get to know her. She's different. They don't like different. It doesn't mesh with their ideals and values. Well…that's probably true. She wouldn't.

'So, that's one burger with the works. Water and coffee – black. Anything else?' The woman wonders impatiently. She phrased the question as rhetorical. Rose isn't meant to answer it with anything other than no.

'I don't think so…'

'Good. I'll get this submitted.' The woman has already turned away and Rose nearly missed most of what she said. Take note, she reminds herself. When coming to Jewell County again, not to come here. This was the first place on the way into town. No, she knows why – sad thing is, since the town is so small, there is not a lot of options. She hopes the rest of Kansas isn't like this little place.

She powers up the laptop and begins clicking away, firing off emails and scribbling things down in the notebook – for a man of his calibre…he's certainly being lazy in his efforts to conceal himself. She doesn't miss the feeling she's being intensely watched by the rest of the patrons. Though nothing is said to her, she's just infringing on their peace.

After twenty minutes, her food arrives – the waitress has said nothing to her, she just set the plate down and then dropped off the coffee and water. It doesn't bother her that much anymore – the woman's indifference – she presses onward. But, she takes a small break anyway so she can go over what she knows so far. And it isn't much. She takes a bite of her burger – a little greasy but passible – to reflect on the last week, ever since she got that phone call.

 _She had packed her bag as quickly as she could, tossing whatever popped into her mind at the moment. All she had wanted to do was have a quick nap, though she guessed that she'd be able to sleep after she found a place in Spokane. She imagines that if she were Russ, he wouldn't stay there for long. He was from a small group of humans selected to hold onto a device that had the ability to time travel after he'd stolen one from a mission to the bazaar like markets that resembled Istanbul on a planet called Timurr. He had procured his as a joke and had been stunned to find it worked._

 _When the 'authorities' had discovered what he had been doing, they paid him a visit. However, after he was able to prove that all he had been doing was visiting places to witness history they deemed him trustworthy, added his name to a register and told him what would happen to him if ever slipped up. Even once. The whole 'interview' took nearly a year. Russ had been true to his word. And was one of the best ops in the field. She loved working with him. Even if he was a bit gruff and his methods odd._

 _Odd, as in, he usually didn't check in until after the mission was complete, choosing instead to wait at least a week. But after those involved in this latest mission had submitted reports and he had failed to do the same, people were growing concerned. Sure, he was a man who liked to be alone, often choosing to remain anonymous in the past, his preferred time? 1960s, USA. So much going on, in the entire country, he'd often say. Funny, coming from a place like France, she thought he'd have stuck to a place where it was quiet, crowds bugged him. Instead he chose to stay in New Orleans. Two each their own. They'd often hang out together there. She liked Russ. He had roughness to him that she had managed to smooth out every time they worked together or hung out after. So, when she received word from Rick that he hadn't been heard from in nearly two months, she had grown worried also. It was not characteristic of him to be a ghost for so long._

 _She baited him with a text to meet up. She had hoped that even though he hadn't responded to his handlers, he'd at least respond to her. Half an hour into her packing, she tried again. She saw the first message had been read eight minutes after she sent her first one. Bad time to get in touch? He could at least tell her that. So, she told him so._

Maybe some other time. Tied up…

 _That had been the response she'd gotten when her mobile buzzed. At least he confirmed her innocent text. She had zipped up her bag and figured that Spokane was the only place that was logical enough to start. Something was continuing to nag at her in the back of her mind, she wasn't sure why. Russ responded to her. Curt and to the point. That's always how he's been. She slings the bag over her shoulders and opens up the night side table, removing the false bottom and picks up the manipulator. She slips it on as she walks down the halls of the TARDIS towards the console room. She doesn't have a clue how long she'll be gone for. Doesn't know what to expect when she gets to Spokane, doesn't know what she'll find. The more she thinks about Russ' words, the more concerned she grows. Something is happening. She doesn't know what and isn't sure how Russ comes to be factored in to this. She worries for the outcome and then chastises herself for thinking so negatively. But truthfully…how often does she score victories in her line of work?_

 _She didn't see the Doctor as she strides towards the doors. She missed him reclined in the chair in the gallery. He closes his book when he notices Rose enter and that she's carrying bags. He widens his eyes. She's leaving? Already? She pauses by the door as her mobile buzzes and she puts it to her ear._

'Yeah. I'm on my way. Really? Okay. Forward me that. I'll look when I get settled.'

'Rose? What are you…Rose?'

 _She ignores him and balances the phone on her shoulder as she opens the door and steps off the ledge. She's gone in a blink of light, the air crackles around him and he rushes from the gallery to the front doors. She's gone. Has she truly left? Without saying goodbye? He shuts the door and feels a strange sense of hopelessness wash over him. Why would she want to leave…? Where could she be going? Should he call her, explain himself? What would he even say? He leans against the console._

 _Suddenly things feel cold, empty…dark. What…what now?_

Rose looks over the last credit card transaction. This is what she doesn't understand. This man is a professional. Why would he make it so easy to be found? Half the time he's impossible to get a number from him. Instead, this time, she's been trailing him since Spokane. He'll use a card and it will let her know where he's been. He's moving at a rather quick pace. She had lagged behind, allowed him to build up quite a distance and then moved to the town he was staying for the moment. Still few visuals on him. The one she got she pulls from the manila folder. A fuzzy CCTV capture of him at a gas station. A partial profile picture. He was with a young woman and two other men. The men looked calm and collected. Russ appeared uneasy and sick looking – his skin had a sheen to it. The woman appeared pale, dazed as she held onto three 1.5 litre bottles of water. That had been in Utah. Another couple of transactions in Arizona and then New Mexico. Before it was quiet for a couple of weeks. And then another hit in Missouri. Finally, she had caught up with him in Kansas. In a place called Jewell. This seems to be the final destination as anything that has come up, transaction wise, has all been here. She just hasn't had a chance to scope out anything since she literally just sauntered into town, hungry and tired. She looks down to her mobile as it buzzes. She slides her finger across the new message. It's from Jack.

 _Hey Babes, nothing yet? I got the field report from Rick. Finally._

Rose takes a sip of coffee. She swallows awkwardly. It was so weak. She downs some water. _Nothing yet. I just rolled into Jewell._

 _Quaint name. You'd not believe how hard it is to get things from the French. They're so secretive._

 _Rick hasn't met you before now. He's a suspicious person. Plus, you're texting him in English, yeah? Try French._

 _I'll say. And I don't speak French – well. Anyway. Looks like it was a standard field op. They were investigating the possible landing of a Ruffalop. Report says that's what they found. The Ruffalop's spaceship had hit an asteroid and became damaged. It orbited in space for a bit before it became sucked in by Earth's gravitational pull. Crashed in Spokane. Anyway, the troops gathered up the evidence and took the Ruffalop to British Columbia – closest ally in that sense. Closest office. Sent the Ruffalop on its way back home. The troops were ready to go home, Russ stated he was going back to Spokane and that was the last that anyone heard from him._

Rose begins looking through her old chain of emails to see what initiated this contact. _Rick came to me because he wants to keep Russ's disappearance on the low. Very few people know about it._

 _Your pal said that he worries that in the initial contact – Russ was the first one to pick up the little guy – that its defence mechanisms were triggered. And that maybe Russ was hit with it._

Since Rose has only seen a Ruffalop in a picture – this was her first time – she's not well versed in its history. _What are the defence mechanisms?_

Rose is quick to attempt to pull up her database but the Wi-Fi connection is seriously slow, even with her phone as a hotspot. She closes her eyes and quietly exhales her frustrations. She still needs to find a motel to check into. She dreads to think about the horrendous décor is waiting for her this time. She's passed from everything from tacky 90s, to 60s to 70s. Some had shag carpet so thick she's certain if she dropped something it'd become lost in the carpet fibres. In fact, when she was staying in a motel in Utah, she had stepped out onto the shag carpet after a shower and was surprised by the fact that the shag stuck together in some spots. It had been crusty.

 _Spikes come out of its back, in them are poisonous barbs. If they come into contact with anything else, it secretes its poison and it's absorbed into the skin. Victim wouldn't feel it until a couple of days later. It eats away at the brain. Eventually everything shuts down. And that's pretty much it. You're a goner._

 _Even if that's the case, he's still alive. And it's been months. It can't be the poison. Did you get those CCTV shots? Those people have to know him. Though he did look sickish in that photo. Something deeper is going on. Has to, yeah? Maybe he owed people something and that's who he met accidentally in Spokane and who he was going back to meet when the group was disbanding in British Columbia?_

 _We checked bank statements. At least those he has current to this era. There is nothing out of the ordinary. Only couple of transactions we questioned, turns out he put a down payment on an apartment in New Orleans and leased a vehicle. And since this disappearance, the mortgage has still been paid and car payment made. So he's cognitive of that. I don't know about those bank accounts from the 60s. I imagine he'd be paying cash mostly. Make himself a ghost there._

Rose closes her eyes and ignores the phone call that comes in. He's been calling since she left. Probably due to the fact she didn't say anything to him, she just walked out the door. One crisis at a time. _Do you think he might be being held hostage? That's why he's making it so easy to be discovered?_

 _I guess at this point anything's possible. We just need to find him. Even if he doesn't want to come back to this life…we just need to know._

Rose closes her eyes and sighs. _Right. Well, I'm in a local diner getting the third degree from the locals. So I'm going to check myself into a motel. I'll pound pavement when I've got some idea of what I'm doing._

 _Okay, sounds good. If Rick comes up with something, I'll pass it along._

 _Thanks Jack. Hey, wanna go to a concert? I've got Florence + the Machine tickets._

 _Oh, yes. You know I'm down. Where?_

 _I'm not sure. Tickets are at my flat in London. Could be the O2. Check when you're down there next time. Also, I'm sorry that the guest bed isn't made up. I left fresh clean sheets on the bed._

 _Ha, ha. Damn. You let me semi live in your house and I have to make my own bed up? You're mean._

 _Ha, ha, whatever._

 _Thanks though. Kate and I are meeting up Friday to go over some new project she wants to look at. You need to stop ignoring her, she's getting desperate._

 _Well, I've been busy. Travelling with a friend. Though, I think – judging by the way things are going – I'll be available more often than not._ Rose hit sent before she meant to. She was typing her feelings, she didn't want Jack to know there were strains between them. She feels her cheeks flush.

 _That doesn't sound good. It's you two. You can get through anything._

 _That's only if both parties want to. And I'm not sure the other half wants to. Anyway, enough of that. Call me later, yeah?_

 _Drinks. On me. Maybe you take the long way back to the TARDIS. Stop in London…? Cardiff even._

 _Love you._

 _Love you more, Rose. Stay safe._

She attempts – and fails – several times to get her waitress's attention. Finally, she packs her things up and slings her duffle and laptop bags over her shoulder and walks to the cash register. She pulls out a twenty and the waitress comes out of the back. She eyes Rose and the twenty in her hand She loudly chews her gum as she rings in the meal, Rose looks over her shoulder to the generation before hers as they eye her with disapproval. Her mobile buzzes. Wait a minute, she mentally tells him.

'That'll be $10.21.' The waitress states. Rose hands her the twenty. The bell on the antiquated cash machine erupts and the waitress hands Rose her change, which she immediately pockets and turns towards the door.

'Have a great day.' Rose tells her and the waitress clicks her tongue in disapproval.

'Look, I don't know where it is you're from, but here in America, we tip our servers.' The woman responds coldly and Rose stops and turns over her shoulder.

'Not to worry. I've done a lot of business in America. I know all about your tipping customs,' Rose replies cheerfully. The woman gives her a dirty look that almost begs for an explanation. 'Tipping is for good service. I'll let you know when I've found it.'

She strides towards the door and closes the door, not necessarily a slam, but a stiff shut. She decides to huff it on foot to the nearest motel. Jewell can't be that large. At least the sun is out. It's a rather pretty town, exceptionally small. A lot of older model cars drive by her and as she approaches the main strip of road downtown, it's picturesque scene reminds her of any telly shows she's seen that depict the average American small town. It's got bright coloured buildings, a lot of perfectly manicured shrubbery and contrasting flowers that somehow work in order to give off a nice wholesome feeling. And a lot of…flashing lights. Rose pauses and tilts her head. Police cars. That's curious. Usually she imagines towns this small would have virtually no crime at all. She pauses where the two cruisers are parked between the alleyway of two buildings she believes used to be factories. Now they look abandoned – turned in to old warehouses.

The scene has been cordoned off. Yellow caution tape has been strung up to keep out people and though there are people who pass by the alleyway as they walk the main sidewalk, very few people stop to look. And those that do are shooed away by the police officer who has been monitoring the rubberneckers.

Rose notices that the officer is young, there is a look of uncertainty in his pale blue eyes. Whatever they're dealing with – she notices another officer cover his mouth when the sheet is pull away from the victim – this is something they've never dealt with before. She opens her duffle bag in a hurry and roots around for the object she's looking for. Rarely has she had to pull this rouse, but maybe this could be connected to her case as well. Maybe that victim is Russ. She hopes she's wrong.

She walks across the road and the officer monitoring the crime scene perks up and notices her coming. He puffs out his chest and holds his hand out to stop her.

'Pardon me, ma'am – but you can't be here. You need to keep moving.' He instructs and Rose flashes him her ID. He leans in further to inspect it.

'Afternoon, officer. Jane Jones, FBI. Anything I can help out with?' Rose questions sweetly, her American accent is a little rusty, though she doubts the officer will notice. He straightens up and looks confused.

'Who called the Feds?' He wonders rhetorically and then sticks his hand out, Rose grasps it. 'Sorry, Agent Jones. Hank Simpson.'

'Good to meet you, officer Simpson. And no one. I actually was up visiting family in Lebanon. Except my family can't come together without fighting. I needed a break. Drove my car, parked it and went for a run. Sorry, I'm rambling.' Rose attempts to connect with the man and hopes that her fake omission will do the trick.

The officer immediately looks at ease with her and he nods. 'Know the feeling, agent.'

Rose offers a kind smile and the officer looks a little sheepish. She motions to the alleyway. 'What's going on here. I figured Jewell would be nearly crime free.'

Hank sighs. 'We are, normally. Just the usual citations. Drunk driving, you know, the easy stuff,' he pauses and looks over his shoulder. He turns back to her shaking his head. 'Haven't been with the force long. This is my first murder.'

'I wish I could say it'll get easier. But…you'll just get numb.' Rose tells him and he rubs the back of his head.

'I ain't never seen one like this,' Hank informs her and Rose tilts her head. 'Worse still…second similar case. One female about two weeks ago. Male this time. Both had their throats ripped out. They had a couple of similar cases in Mankato.'

Rose involuntarily swallows. 'Animal attack?'

Hank nods his head in agreeance but Rose can see he doesn't believe his own words. 'Possibly. Don't see how one could be this ferocious. Anyhow. That's what we're telling the folks out there. They'll believe us. They have to. Don't know what else it could be.'

'Do you want any help with things?' Rose offers and attempts to sneak a peek at the victim. Male. Vague as it is, it could be Russ. Similar attacks elsewhere…what's he gotten involved with?

'I think we've got it covered, agent. But you're welcome to swing by the station if you want. You could, ah - dang it!' Hank rushes to block the photographer who has appeared at the scene. 'Dang it, Phil, what are you doing?'

'The Jewell County Tribune has an audience to sate. So what have we got, Hank?' Phil questions and Hank put his arm around the slight reporter to turn him around and back to the sidewalk. The journalist looks less than impressed and twists a few times to get a better look.

'You want any information, you can wait like everyone else until the spokeswoman releases a statement.'

Phil frowns. 'Second vic inside a month, Hank, what's the good officers down at the station gonna do 'bout this? What do you reckon we're dealing with? Are these murders connected to the ones in Mankato?'

'All right. Just wait for Larissa's statement, okay? And these ain't murders, you write that down.' Hank instructs and Phil looks over his shoulder once more as the coroner's van pulls up alongside the curb. A tired looking man gets out and sighs deeply before putting on a pair of latex gloves he's pulled from his coat pocket and walks towards the scene. He lifts the caution tape and moves by Rose with a fluidity of a man who's been in this business for a long time. His method is decisive.

Another officer waves at the man and Rose hears the name Red float down the alleyway. They fall into conversation, low voices. No one has noticed her standing there yet. Maybe they heard the pretend FBI agent and decided to keep to themselves. There's something more going on here. It's as though something uncomfortable lurks in the air. What these people are seeing doesn't coincide with what they're saying. In their gut, they know it's more dangerous. But you can't fuel the fire and admit you don't know what you're dealing with. Panic is dangerous and it spreads so quickly, better to say it's wildlife with rabies or a lunatic than something unknown. It's believable to people. That's all that matters. It's tangible to them.

Rose watches Hank shoo the reporter away and he gets into his car, only driving a couple of meters away before he's parked on the curb side once more and observes the scene, camera poised. Rose can't help but admire the tenacity for the scoop. Morbid as it is.

'Sorry about that, agent Jones.'

'Please call me Jane. I won't take up any more of your time. Just a quick question, though.' Rose replies and Hank eagerly nods at her. His smile says he wants to say something else but doesn't have the courage to do so.

'Sure thing!'

'Got any motel recommendations?' Rose wonders and Hank pauses. He frowns and points north, Rose follows his arm and tilts her head. A little forested on that side.

'Well, we just have the one. It ain't much, but-…'

'It'll do?' Rose finishes his sentence and Hank smiles.

'It will. It's called The Jewell. Can't miss it. It's about a ten-minute walk…or, I could drive you over in the squad car.' Hank offers and Rose smiles but shakes her head. He looks a bit crestfallen but that falls quickly to the wayside.

'Thanks, but you have an investigation to attend to. I won't take up any more of your time.' Rose smiles and holds out her hand. Hank gives her a firm handshake and then rubs the back of his head.

'Any time, Jane,' Hank replies and watches Rose begin to walk towards the motel and he calls out to her before she's out of range. 'You know…!' he calls and Rose pauses, she turns around with a perplexed look. 'Uh, I mean, you're still welcome to drop by the station. We could use a federal agent's opinion on this case, that is to say…if you'll be around.'

Rose doesn't know if she'll be around. 'Yeah, I'll try to drop by at some point – at least before I leave.'

'Great! Uh, have a nice night, agent!' Hank calls to her from his police cruiser and Rose sticks up her hand in acknowledgement. She lets out a sigh and feels around her pocket for her mobile as it starts to vibrate again.

She watches Hank drive by her and she waves. She keeps an eye out for the motel while she presses her mobile to her ear without looking at who it is. The town is pretty and the smell of floral notes. She can't help but forget her troubles in these little towns and counties.

'Rose speaking.'

' _I've been trying to get a hold of you for a while. Where are you?'_

Rose internalises her sigh. 'Hi, Doctor. Nice to hear your voice.'

' _Where are you?'_ He repeats desperately. _'You just stepped out of the TARDIS, disappeared in a flash, and that was it. Gone. I can't even track you.'_

'That sounds odd when you say it. And I've got a cloaking device active on my mobile, laptop, everything.' Rose explain and nods to a man out sweeping the front of his store. Oh, ice cream. She'll be back for that.

' _What? Why in the world do you want to hide yourself? Are you hiding from me? What have I done this time?'_ Comes the frantic reply and Rose shakes her head at his desperate attitude. She believes she spies the motel up a head, which is great because for some reason, she wants to take a shower and a nap.

'You haven't done a thing. This was something I needed to do alone because it involves me in my line of work.'

' _Why? What is it? Two heads are better than one. Did you think about that? Actually, my intelligence is enough for two people – and more, so really you could have brought me along and I'd have solved your problem in no time.'_ He boasts and Rose rolls her eyes as she walks up the driveway to the motel. Looks a little…rundown. She grows nervous.

'Daily dose of egotism in the morning. Glad you still have that,' Rose answers and pauses on the sidewalk up to the motel. At least the neon sign is flashing vacancy. She looks up to the stairs that lead to the level where the rooms are. Most of the curtains are drawn shut. She wonders why. That many bookings? 'I'll be back as soon as I'm done.'

' _You still haven't told me where you are. Why can't I help you?'_ The Doctor protests and Rose drops her bag to the ground while she attempts to find a polite way of getting the Doctor off the phone. She twists a piece of her hair.

'I'm sure I'll be fine. We can do things apart, you know. That said…we can keep in touch if you want – you can call me every day until I'm back if you want to.' Rose offers and he sighs loudly in her ear. She moves the phone from her ear and waits his response.

' _It's not the same without you here. The TARDIS is so…quiet,'_ The Doctor admits quietly and Rose inadvertently smiles softly from his admission. _'I liked hearing you sing in the halls.'_

'Thank you, at least you think I sing well,' Rose looks over her shoulder as the police car drives by followed by the coroner's car. She should stop by the station. She needs to be sure. 'Why don't you go see Clara. The two of you can always find trouble together. You won't notice I'm not there and before you know it, I'll be back to annoy you.'

' _Yeah, but I do enjoy getting in trouble with you too.'_

'Oh, go have some fun. I'll be expecting a call from you later, yeah?' Rose picks up her back and heads towards the motel's sign for check in. _You're not a princess_ , she reminds herself, _rustic is okay. You'll be fine._

' _I will, I guess. Tell me you'll be okay, or better yet, tell me if you're in trouble. I'll find you.'_ The Doctor replies and Rose can almost see him leaning against the TARDIS with a look of concern on his face and maybe a pout since he isn't getting his way.

'I will. Bye, Doctor.' Rose smiles when he gives his farewell and she slips her phone into her pocket. She holds her breath and walks along the walkway to the office door. A sign that says check-in is hung above it and Rose pushes the door open. A bell chimes.

The interior is dated. Early 70s, maybe? Burnt orange carpet, complete with a couple of cigarette burns, pea green plastic chairs, a glass table with a variety of old and very dated magazines spread out sits between the chairs. There is an over powering smell of flowers, chemically created to mask another smell. It lingers in the air faintly…she just can't tell what it is.

The desk wooden but dated as well. There isn't even a computer to check people in…incredibly old fashioned. There are still the slots with room keys in them on the back wall. A bell on the ledge of the desk but no body behind it. Rose pauses and looks around. A noise erupts at the rear of the reception area. Sounds like someone had just dropped something heavy.

'Hello?' Rose calls out and something metal clatters to the ground.

'Yeah, yeah I'm coming…' Someone's dismissive response floats down to her. Rose sniffs the air. Mildew? Stop it, princess. An older man of sixty or so, with a slight bend of the back emerges. He blinks. 'Can I help you?'

The man looks as though he's wearing coveralls that tell a story of a thousand projects he's done. Permanent oil and grease spills stain the once pristine denim. Rips, tears and burns litter his outfit, he hastily wipes his hands on a soiled rag he's procured from his back pocket.

'Um, yes, hi…do you have vacancies?' Rose observes the man's suspicious look of her. He stuffs the rag into the front pocket of his coveralls.

'Yeah, I have vacancies.' He coughs a heavy smoker's cough so violent that Rose is concerned he's going to pass out from the ferocity, his face goes red.

'Are you okay - do you want some water?' Rose reaches into her bag and pulls out a half full bottle and offers it to the man who holds his hand out to stop her and shakes his head. He eventually recovers and straightens up.

'Sorry, bad coughing fits as of late. My son tells me I ought to get on up to the hospital, but I'm old, he's in California, so who really cares?' He questions rhetorically and Rose widens her eyes. She offers the bottle again and thankfully the man accepts it. He puts a coffee cup on the ledge of the desk and pours a fair bit in. He puts the lid on and hands it back to Rose. He takes a deep drink. 'Anyway, yeah. I got a room. Whole whack of them. Forty bucks a day? Sound good?'

Rose swallows involuntarily and flashes a nervous smile and fishes her hand in her pocket. 'Yeah, that's fine. Here's fifty,' she passes the money to the man who accepts it and an awkward pause ensues. Rose isn't sure if she's getting change back so she decides to forgo the conversation. 'Don't worry about the change…'

The man gives her a gracious smile and turns to the wall with all the slots in it and picks up a key set. 'Okay, got you set up in room twelve. Just sign the guest book here if you will.'

He passes Rose the keys and she thanks him, hastily scribbling down an alias in the yellow paged book. The pages are crinkled and stiff as she presses a fountain pen into a faux signature. She dots the final 'I' and 'T' but as she moves to go a thought strikes and so she turns back around to the man.

'Do I need a password to get on to the Wi Fi?'

The man holds up his hand and his gaze falls down to the desk. Rose hears drawers opening and things being shuffled around. In fact, she believes she hears the man muttering about the perils of the younger generation who can't get out and enjoy a little bit of nature. Always glued to their phones. She wants to make a comment but again, it hardly seems worth it to have to explain her situation and really, what's the point? He doesn't need to know anything else about her. Let him go on believing that the younger generation is responsible for all the woes of the world, how disconnected they are from everyday life. There isn't enough time in the day to convince someone with different views why things change for the better - usually. She waits patiently as the drawer shuts and he straights up, a piece of paper in his hand.

'Sorry. My son wrote this down for me when we installed the wiffy or whatever it's called. Said it was a necessity. I don't get it myself but, you're not the first person to ask for it. Uh, let's see… _JewellMotel1_. I'm not sure if those capital letters make a difference or not.'

'I'll try it and see. Thank you.' Rose heads out of the door and inhales the fresh air. Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with the air flow of the reception area. She hopes the room won't be like that either.

Her mobile vibrates and she walks up the stairs to the second level where the rooms are actually located. There are only two other people in this motel. One in room one and one in room six. Since the curtains were drawn she didn't get a chance to casually observe who might be living in there. It's something she'll have to pay attention to as she comes and goes. Just to see who she'll be dealing with.

Thankfully she seems to be isolated at the furthest end of the motel. She's the final room and she peers over her shoulder to see the surroundings, which are pleasant to say the least. The sun is out and birds chirp from the nearby trees. She spots a diner down the road from the motel opposite way she had walked in. It'll do for dinner. At least it isn't Misty's. She smiles to herself as she slides the key in to the lock and twists.

She pushes the door open carefully and frowns as a burst of stale air hits her. Maybe a window should have been left open. She takes a few steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, locking it. The window by the door has the curtains drawn back allowing the sunlight to stream into the room, specks of dust are visible in the sunlight stream. To her advantage there is a two-seater table in front of the window, that'll be nice when she's working so she sets her bag down on top of that and walks a few more paces into the room.

It's definitely a décor pulled from the late 60s or maybe early 70s. Floral and bright, contrasting colours. She glances down to the carpet and decides to keep her shoes on instead. She looks at the two double beds with sickly green quilts. Clean white sheets though. Directly across from the two beds is the bathroom and reluctantly she peers inside. Things seem in order. She decides not press her luck further until the time is right. It'll only be for a few nights until she's certain Russ has moved on.

Rose moves back to the little table and pulls out one chair, setting the bag down and digging through it. She pulls out her files and notes she'd taken earlier and her laptop. She gets herself comfortable and pulls out her mobile. Several messages from Jack and one from the Doctor. She checks the Doctor's message first because she feels it will be the most amusing.

 _Rose. Clara is busy. I think she's met a boy. How incredibly silly of her. She said she couldn't join me because she was meeting a friend. She said friend funny and was nervous when I asked about it. A boy! I think I should follow her and find out if he's good enough for her._

She widens her eyes and checks when that was sent. Over an hour ago. He's already stalking her. Oh no. Rose types her response in a flourish.

 _No. Do not do that. Leave her alone if that's the case._ She hits send. No response. _Doctor I am serious._

She sighs and answers Jack's messages with a swift send and then opens her laptop. There has been no activity on Russ's part as of late. If he is here, he's got his head down. She finds herself in the zone and continues to dig around and find leads wherever she can until the sun has gone down. The Doctor never messaged her back and Jack had gone out to dinner with Mickey and Martha. They wanted her to go to Liv's birthday party next month. She knows she has to go and says yes. She'll have to think a gift now as well. She immediately puts it into her calendar and notices the time. And the fact that she's hungry. Sounds like a trip to the diner is coming up. Right after she takes this facetime call from Jack. Why must he do that from a restaurant? She shakes her head and he defends himself. He was just connecting with her because he had been bouncing ideas off of Mickey and Martha and they had some thoughts.

What was supposed to be just a quick touch base call turned into a cold type of reunion, awkward for three quarters of an hour. They talked as though she was there with them when in fact she's in America. They're at one of her favourite restaurants in London. A sting of jealousy is felt. Though she doesn't feel it towards them, just the fact that she's here alone, as usual, without a friend. And then she scolds herself because that's the way she likes it. Until she doesn't.

If she doesn't end up connecting with Russ, how far is willing to pursuit him until she either finds him or is calling it quits? Time has already flown by. She wishes she could catch a break. She's missing an obvious key piece of information to connect the dots completely but has no idea what. She still believes that the only way she'll get anything out of this is to find Russ and ask him point blank.

Maybe she'll have to go back to Cardiff and pick up Jack, that way she can have some company and they can pound pavement together. After all, who else is going to help her solve this disappearance case?

* * *

The sound of someone clunking down the stairs startles the one who had been sleeping at the table awake, much to the confusion of the other one, especially when the awake one hits the sleepy one's feet – as they had been reclined on the table. The sleepy one cracks an eye, closing it immediately. Too bright. A fuzzy outline of a statue like person is there when he opens his eyes for a second time.

'Dude? Again? We have beds for a reason. This is the third time this week.'

The one who had been asleep – and still partially is – glances up at the man who sits down across from him. 'What? Well excuse me for finally getting a lead and wanting to find out all I can about it.'

'You can still take a break. Get some rest. The problem is still gonna be there when you wake up.'

'First lead we've had in a while. A good solid lead that might solve our problem-…'

'Dean, like I said. It's still going to be waiting for you when you get up,' comes the reply and Dean watches as a newspaper is shoved across the polished wooden table. Dean picks it up and frowns as he reads it. 'What do you think?'

'I think Vamps.' His reply is groggy. After a deep stretch, the world starts to gain a bit of familiarity.

'Think we should check it out?'

'I dunno, Sam. We kinda have a bigger problem to focus on right now, remember? You know the impending doom that hovering over us.'

Sam sighs, it isn't as though they haven't had impending doom above their heads before. 'Yeah Dean, I know. And Cas is working on it too, chasing other leads. I just thought instead of sitting here waiting for answers, we hunt in the meantime.'

Dean doesn't look convinced. 'Are you sure we should be taking a break?'

'No. I mean, yeah, I'm sure. I'm tired of looking at these walls. It's been days. And besides,' Sam motions to the paper. 'This case is local. It's in Jewell County.'

'That's not…far…' Dean remarks and Sam can see the interest is there. Reluctantly. 'All right. Fine. We'll go check it out. But if it's not, we're out.'

He rises up out of the chair and walks by Sam who shakes his head. 'Yeah. First. Shower. You stink. You've been in the same clothes for three days.'

Dean gives him a funny look and Sam nods his head. 'I do not…'

'And brush your teeth. Please.'

Dean audibly sighs and rolls his eyes, turning back around and heading for his room. Sam picks up the paper and begins to scour it for details. Seems as though the killings started in Mankato, moved along to Jewell. Similar cases, both victims had their throats torn out. Animal attacks? Unlikely, not with the ferocity behind them. It definitely sounds like Vampires. Good. It'll be nice to get back to basics. Nothing complicated about hunting vamps. This will be an open and shut case. Exactly what they need to distract them from the larger issue at hand.

They need to get out and start hunting again. Dean's obsession with the Darkness and defeating her is beginning to grate on his nerves. He knows he's hiding more than what he saying. He can sense that Dean has a connection with Amara that he refuses to admit to and yet he's unable to stop himself from getting closer to her. And he knows that that scares Dean – he just won't talk about it. Can't deal with it if he can't feel it or acknowledge it. That's why he's hoping that this lead with getting an object touched by God will give them enough juice to banish Amara back to wherever it was they released her from in the first place. He just hopes there isn't a trick to using it. He almost laughs. Of course, there'll be a trick or a clause that states it. That's just their luck. But until they get to that bridge, they won't know. So they just have to continue on, burn this lead out. And then find another.

Heavy footsteps echo around him and Sam looks up to Dean fixing the collar of his shirt and he rises from the chair. He really hopes that this lead turns out to be a nest of vamps. Sam shuts the laptop he'd been using to browse the police reports and tucks it under his arm.

'There. Better?' Dean wonders and they walk up the stairs to the metal door.

'Yeah. Much.'

'First things first. I'm starving. Breakfast. What do you feel like? Bacon? Me too.' Dean answers himself and they get into the Impala.

'Sure. Yeah.'

'Think she could use a wash?' Dean motions to the interior of the Impala and Sam frowns at the randomness of the question. At least he's grateful that his brother has snapped out of the funk he'd been in earlier. He's clearly shaken his reluctance to go out and hunt, which is good. Sam senses that this is something he's wanted too, but wasn't able to say it.

Sam smiles and shakes his head at Dean. 'No. I don't think so.'

'I'm gonna get her washed,' Dean decides and starts the car. A low rumble erupts as the engine roars to life. The car is shifted into drive and they roll out onto the road. 'The nice thing is, we don't have to go far. How often does that happen? No scummy motels for us.'

'Rarely, you're right.'

Dean watches the road go by and the traffic thin out. 'It's like a day trip. We're goin' to work and then coming home at night. Like regular people.'

Sam eyes him. 'You're getting too invested in this.'

'Little victories, Sam. They don't come round often.'

They've barely been on the road for a half hour when Dean spots a sign for breakfast. He pulls into Misty's Café and parks the car. The place doesn't look busy for a morning, he wonders if they've missed the rush. Sam grabs the laptop and follows Dean inside.

There are a few people scattered around the booths and sitting at the bar like table talking to the waitress in a dingy white shirt. She eyes them carefully when they come in and take a seat at the back. Sam opens the laptop and begins to search through Jewell's police records.

Dean looks around impatiently for the waitress who has disappeared in the back. He's getting concerned that they won't be served and nearly gets up to go to the counter and get some coffee when the waitress come back out in a flourish. She stops at their table and Dean gives her a smile. She returns a tight, strained one. Obviously fake. And obviously doesn't care to be there.

'Welcome to Misty's. What can I start you off with?'

Dean glances over to Sam quickly and then back to the waitress. 'Yeah, two coffees to start. Menus?'

The waitress points to the condiment holder by the window. Two aged menus stick up there. Dean gives her a nod. 'Ah. Thanks. Can you give us five?'

'Yeah. I'll be back with those coffees…' she turns to leave before finishing her sentence. She walks right by the coffee maker and into the back again.

Sam glances up and watches her go. 'Friendly staff.'

'Eh, maybe she's tired.' Dean reaches across him and snags a menu. He starts browsing and settles on what he wants. He waves the menu in Sam's face.

'Stop. What?' Sam looks over to Dean impatiently, having begun to read the police reports on the incidents from Mankato and Jewell, cross referencing them with anything else odd that's appeared around their area in the last two weeks. They've been so preoccupied with the Darkness that he feels they've let their duty to hunt monster fall by the wayside. Granted, saving the world takes precedence but when there are no leads, it's time to go back to basics.

'What do you want?' Dean questions and Sam glances over at the menu and frowns.

'I don't know. An omelette.'

Dean reaches across him and puts the menu back. 'You're cranky when you're hungry. I'll make sure that the waitress puts a rush on that.'

Sam rolls his eyes and turns the laptop slightly so Dean can see the medical examiner's reports and photos. 'Look. Does this not seem…sloppy to you?'

Dean leans in closer and nods his head. 'Yeah, I never could understand doctors' writing. I swear it's just scribbles.'

'Not the ME writing. The throat. It's…amateurish.'

'Maybe it's a new vamp,' Dean smiles at the waitress when she sets the coffees down. She has a pad of paper and pencil poised. 'Yeah, this one is gonna get an egg white omelette, toss some veggies on the side. Super healthy. Me, I'm gonna get bacon and eggs. Brown toast.'

'Great…I'll get that to the back.'

Sam looks up to him and frowns. 'Dude. Really?'

'What - I thought you loved healthy stuff,' Dean replies and turns the laptop back towards him. He studies the deep gash on the victim's neck. 'Look at the second one, the one from Jewell. Cleaner. Must be getting better.'

Sam stretches and notices the waitress bringing food over to them. 'So there's a nest somewhere. You think it's here in Jewell or are they moving again?'

Sam accepts the plate from the waitress and Dean takes his from her outstretched hand. He sets the plate down and is about to hold up his coffee cup for a refill when the waitress has already disappeared. He notices the pot of coffee on the burner and wonders if he just ought to help himself.

'Tell you one thing…this girl's tip is dwindling…' Dean mutters and inspects the toast. Slightly burnt. 'I didn't ask them to melba my toast…anyway. I say we head into the police station. Speak to them, see what's up, linger for a few days and if nothing comes up then they've moved on.'

Sam finishes the rest of his coffee. 'Yeah. Then we'll have to pay attention to where they may end up. Any thoughts on how many there could be?'

'Nope, hopefully it's not a problem.' Dean replies and takes a bite from the burnt toast. He takes a mental note of not to come back to this place again. He's less than impressed.

A half hour later they walk out after having settled the bill, and get back into the Impala. Sam tells him where the police station is located and he turns the car on and begins to head down the main strip. Jewell isn't that bad, it has the quaint little town feel to it. People are out shopping, having coffee and pastries at the café or bistro, whatever it is. There people sitting on benches and remarking about the weather or whatever other boring crap normal people talk about. A hot chick running. Dean finds himself slowing down to look. He can't get a good look at her face, there are sunglasses obstructing his view but damn. Long, toned legs and…

'Dean, there a reason you drove by the police station?' Sam's nagging voice brings him back to reality and the hot chick seems to have noticed that he had been staring at her and flings him a frown – at least it's only a frown.

He clears his throat. 'No…'

Sam stares at Dean for a few seconds and then checks the review mirror. The only thing he can see that'd distract Dean from paying attention is a pretty blonde running. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean and as he loops the car back around to the station, Dean can't help but flash a guilty smile.

'What? Did you see her? Gorgeous. Those legs-…' He sneaks another peek at the blonde in the rear-view window. Sam snaps his fingers in Dean's face and he blinks.

'Yeah, focus. Vamps.' Sam interjects and Dean parks the car.

'Yeah, I'm focused. I'm a professional.' Dean shuts the car door and together they walk into the station. Rose notices the black car at the station and frowns. They sure don't look like federal agents.

She eyes them but continues on with her run. She's a little annoyed that her pace has been altered but after a few minutes she finds her stride once again and increases her pace. She runs by the crime scene she had walked by earlier though now there is a new person there. She missed them, but they caught sight of her.

Having been sent to assess the damage he had left behind – this whole world is still impossibly new to him and it's getting more complex – he is surprised to see her there. Maybe he had been mistaken. But no. He can smell the vanilla perfume she always uses, he can hear her heart pumping blood, working harder than normal, the blood screams to him. He wants to follow her but he's been out for too long in the sun and not only is he starting to become agitated and hot – like a sunburn – he's also starting to arouse suspicion. It's a pleasant twenty degrees out and he's wearing black clothing, heavy coat the likes.

He peers out from around the corner of the alleyway just as she disappears around the street corner. He knows that she'll continue to track him until she's gotten answers. Truth be told, he wished it was anyone else. He'd have no issue doing what…this infection or alteration has caused him to do. But not to her. Never to her. Maybe he can get a message to her. Tell her to go away, not to seek him out. He or those in his company may hurt her. Or worse, harvest her and then make her one of them. He'd never forgive himself if that happened. He has to keep pushing her away until either he winds up dead – it'd be a blessing if that happened – or she quits.

'Marion, Je ferai ce dont j'ai besoin afin que vous soyez en sécurité.'

He looks over his shoulder when he feels the presence of someone else. The shadow looms over him and a hand extends. It's placed on his shoulder. Though there is a slight language barrier between this man and himself, he knows it's time to go. He wishes nothing but safety to Marion. He'll do all he can.

* * *

The station is small, quiet and apparently deserted. Sam and Dean walk in to a reception desk before them and six desks beyond that. At the back of the room there is another door they imagine leads to the cells and ME's office on the lower level. They pause at the reception desk and look around. There is a bulletin board behind them displaying a missing person's picture. Layla Ramirez. Dean's eyes briefly scan the room once again and his eyes land on the bulletin board but his gaze doesn't linger long before he's leaned forward. He notices that the place appears to be empty. There is no bell to ring and Dean exchanges looks with Sam who merely shrugs. Just as Dean is about to call out to get someone's attention they notice a shadow appear on the opposite door at the back of the room and in a flourish the door opens and a man carrying a couple of boxes sets them down on the desk and sighs. He notices that there are people waiting and brushes himself off and rushes to the counter. He gives them a warm smile.

'Hello, how are you doing? What can I help you with?'

Dean reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out the phony ID, Sam does the same. 'Agents Jones and Young, FBI, we're here to ask about the latest victim.'

The officer pulls away and looks puzzled. 'Victim? The…murder victim?'

Dean frowns. 'Is there another victim?'

'Well no, I guess I wondered why the FBI wants to get involved with it. It's local stuff. Didn't think it'd interest the Feds.'

Sam smiles. 'Well, when we hear this could be connected to the Mankato case, we're very interested.'

'I'll say. You're the second and third agents to stop by. I guess I didn't realise that the FBI had a communication problem. Jones, you said? You're not related to the Jones who spoke to me earlier, are you?'

Dean feels his patience slipping away. Lack of communication? By who? They had other things to worry about, like saving the world. Again. 'I'm not sure I follow you…' he pauses and reads the man's name on his badge. 'Simpson. Clarify for me. You mean to say there was another FBI agent here? Asking about the same thing we are? With the same last name?'

Sam fling him a look to cool it. 'All my…partner means, Officer is that we weren't aware that another agent beat us to the punch. And you said they had the same last name as my partner?'

Hank nods his head. 'Yeah, said her name was Jane Jones. Maybe you guys aren't in the same department. I dunno. I offered for her to swing by the station to look at the victim, she seemed interested too. Maybe you guys are working different cases and this could connect them?'

Sam and Dean look at one another. A bunch of thoughts run through their minds. They'll need to talk about this when they have time.

'Yeah, I guess it could,' Sam agree and motions to the door over their shoulders. Hank turns around quickly. 'Think we could look at the victim?'

'Sure, I reckon that'd be okay.' Hank motions them to follow him and Sam leans forward to Dean.

'Agent Jones? Sounds fake. I wonder who has been around asking?' Sam wonders, keeping his voice barely above a whisper and Dean frowns, he has no idea.

'I'm doing a running tally of all the people we know, and since most if not all of them are dead, I got nothing.' Dean replies and Hank descends the stairs a few paces a head of them. Another officer passes them in the halls and gives Hank a nod while they fling an odd look at Sam and Dean.

'Jody, maybe?' Sam surmises and Dean shakes his head.

'Nah, she uses her police powers for good.'

'Then who else could it be?' Sam stops when Hank looks over to them confused. They've stopped in front of a door with the number nine on it.

'Everything okay?'

'Yup, peachy.' Dean replies with a nod and Hank opens the door to the medical examiner's office.

It's standard enough, a little small but sterile. There is a desk positioned to the left with papers scattered everywhere. In the middle of the room is the examining table and a man's body lies there – pearl grey. Hank goes in with a quick scan of the room and sighs.

'Sorry, agents but I think the ME is out for lunch.'

'That's okay – that's the vic?' Dean points to the body and already is reaching for a pair of gloves stashed in a box on the desk.

'Uh, yeah,' Hank turns to the ME's desk and begins shuffling papers around, he opens a desk drawer and pulls out a manila file folder. He holds it out and Sam takes it. He opens it and quickly skims over the notes. 'It's odd, at least that's what Chester says – uh our ME. Said never seen nothing like it before.'

Sam nods and Dean leans into the body, noticing the odd marks on the man's neck. 'Thanks officer. We'll call you if we have any other questions.'

Hank offers a wary smile and heads back up to the main level, shutting the door behind him. Dean merely points to the neck as Sam leans in and they both nod. It's definitely a vampire. Another idea strikes Dean and he snaps his fingers.

'I got it. I know who it is.'

'What? What are you talking about?' Sam answers and Dean points to man on the table.

'I know who's here asking questions before we had a chance to,' Dean informs him and Sam waits for a response. 'It's Claire. You know we told her to stay away but that kid is stubborn. I bet she's been keeping an eye open for cases.'

'We told her not to.' Sam reminds him and watches Dean take out his phone and begins typing a message.

'Yeah and you think she'd listen to us. Come on, you know she's already feeling like she doesn't belong with Jody. This is her way of keeping busy. I'm gonna send her a message right now and tell her not to bother. We'll meet up, she'll give us what she's got and we send her packing. Right after I tell her she's a name stealer…' Dean mutters and Sam shakes his head as he walks around the body and reads the ME's notes on the case. A quick visual inspection. The man at least attempted to fight back. He had defensive wounds on his hands.

Dean pulls up Claire's contact information and fires off a quick text. After he does, he goes through the bags of evidence that the ME has left on another sterile table. Clothes. Shoes. Ah, personal affects. His phone buzzes.

 _What the hell r u on about?_

 _Don't play games. I know you're here working a case._

 _Where's here?_

 _Jewell._

 _I'm not in Jewell. I don't know where that even is._

 _In Kansas._

 _I'm not!_

Dean looks up to Sam and shakes his head. 'It's not Claire.'

He could practically feel the conviction in her furious typing. Okay so then if it's not Claire, who else do they know? Something doesn't feel right.

'Maybe it is a legitimate FBI agent.' Sam offers and Dean shakes his head. Sam returns to checking out the victim's material goods.

'No I think it's something else. I don't know what yet. I mean, the Feds wouldn't be involved in this. Too local.'

'Well our victim has come in as a John Doe. Nothing substantial on him other than a wallet with nothing in it and a locket.' Sam lobs the locket over to Dean and he catches it. A plain gold one, nothing memorable. He opens it to see a young woman in it. She has dark hair that hangs in loose waves and dark brown eyes. He swears he's seen this woman before, though he can't picture where. He frowns and goes to pocket it for later when Sam looks over to him with a frown. Caught in the act, Dean reluctantly returns the locket to the bag and shrugs at Sam.

'Well, next step. Find the broad in the locket. Maybe she has answers.'

'Yeah. Maybe we'll go up and talk to the officer again. Get the details.' Sam reminds him and Dean nods his head. They head out of the office and back up the stairs. They find the officer sitting at a desk writing meticulous notes. Sam engages while Dean hangs back to survey the building.

There is just something inside him that isn't sitting right – hopefully it's not the breakfast. No, there's more to this case than a simple victim discovered discarded by vampires. Soon he finds himself lost in thought and thoroughly zone out. Inevitably those thoughts in his mind fade away as the world around him drowns out.

Amara is standing there in the building, smiling at him, motioning him to come to her. Only he remains where he is. He can feel the connection pulsing in him. To see her out and to be with her. That connection has been rattling away in his mind and body since he first saw her after her release. The pull is becoming almost too strong. He blindly follows Sam, his mind and body running on autopilot as they walk past Amara who is still standing there. They pass her and she reaches out her hand to grab Dean's. He's surprised that he can feel her. He attempts to get away but she holds him there, eyeing him and smiling. Their untold secret. It need not be verbally acknowledged. She wants him. He can only deny her for so much longer. In an instant, the vision has melted away and all that's left is Sam walking out the door and he lingering in the vestibule before following Sam, fighting like hell to keep distance between himself and Amara. Don't believe the hype. There's nothing there…

He's gotta sever this connection. He's not shaken up at all…

* * *

She shifts from her hiding spot and tries to keep her face minimal of emotion. It's hard with Jack singing in her ear. Trying to maintain a professional demeanour is not easy with him nattering in her ear. It doesn't help that the song that is playing makes her want to sing and dance as loud as she can.

'I miss the 90s, Rose…Backstreet Boys…'

Rose lowers her voice to barely above a whisper. 'Shush, I'm trying to observe…and yeah, you would love them.'

'Yeah, what do you see…? Course I do.'

'I see Russ. He's meeting with other people. Though it's too dark to see. There's a woman there. Three men. He's keeping the woman close. The other men are…huh, they almost look like they're verballing accosting him…'

'Infamous infighting. They're picking a new leader.' Jack surmises and hums along in her ear, she can hear the song blasting in the background.

'Jack please be serious. How am I going to get him out of there?'

'Well, what if he becomes the supreme leader?'

'Of what?'

'I dunno. A cult.'

Rose leans forward from her spot on an adjacent building room when the group shuffles around a bit. The word cult sends shivers down her spine. The last time they dealt with that mess of a mission the cult leader managed to kill four people before that plant's special forces killed that leader. Forty-five other people were saved but she still doesn't know if that's a win. It's never a win when people die.

'Don't say cult. Remember Bagoon?' She's surprised to hear the music lower slightly and Jack sigh loudly into her ear. She frowns when one of the unknown men points to the woman and Russ angrily gets in his face. She holds her breath.

'That was one of the worst negotiations I've ever done. After Lonza killed the first person and you were talking to the others…there was no way you weren't coming out of there a changed person.'

'When you believe in your convictions, good or bad or however misguided…it can still do damage.' Rose reminds him and glances down to the building roof. This conversation has gotten so depressing. Indeed, there is a lingering silence.

'God, we need to lighten the hell up,' Jack decides and Rose finds herself grinning at that comment. 'And yeah, before you say it, I know our jobs are a little depressing sometimes, but if we don't save the world - worlds, who will?'

'Yeah good point. There's just us.' Rose lifts herself up a bit to see the five of them moving on from their parking lot gathering back to the main road. They walk by the building she's perched on. There are angry mutters she can't really make out. However now that she has them in range, maybe she can get close enough to them to get a tracking device on one of them. There are a few cars still left on the roads despite the early hours tonight.

She had been out wandering around in Ruby's guise, fending off locals when she spotted Russ walking quickly down an alleyway. Hands shoved in his pockets and constantly looking over his shoulder. His hood was up and when he peered over his shoulder he looked exhausted, gaunt and paranoid. Pale, with blood shot eyes. She has nearly called his name. Whatever he's involved with had completely transformed him. It broke her heart. This wasn't the Russ she's butted heads with. The man that had hastily put distance between them was a shell of his former being. And she wanted to punish those involved.

Rose quietly sneaks down the fire escape ladder and finds herself surprised at how much faster they seem to be than she is. She's nearly jogging to keep up with them while they appear to be walking. Is it her? She did go for a run earlier. No, it was a quick fifteen k, she's fine. Doesn't feel sore or anything. So what gives? Jack's questioning her health in her head, however if she goes much faster than she runs the risk of being caught and drawing too much attention to herself. They are nearly out of town when the swing a hard left and into a field. They disappear into a line of trees. Rose pauses and sucks in air quick before she takes a few more steps down the muddy field and towards the trees when she witnesses something that takes her a second to comprehend. Her mouth hits the floor.

The woman that was with them tries to fend these men – Russ is being held back by another man – as they advance on her. She wants to help but is frozen. One grabs her hair and yanks her head back to expose her throat. He bites her neck and she lets out a whimper, not a scream or a shout, a whimper. They've done this to her before. Rose covers her mouth in horror. Is she dealing with cannibals? She feels the bile rising in her stomach as the man manages to pull himself away from the woman long enough for the second man take his place. She starts to fall – her legs buckle under her – the second man wraps his arm around her and he too buries his mouth in her neck.

The first man taunts Russ, wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting whatever is left in his mouth into Russ's face, taunting him to have a lick and soon he'll be fully converted. Converted into what?! She vaguely can hear Jack talking but her mind hasn't clicked into reality yet. The vulgarity repulses her. That woman is being passed around as though she were these men's last meal. Maybe she is. Whatever is going on, Russ is involved but not yet broken by it. He can be saved. The third man now walks over to her and the second man passes her off. Russ hastily rubs the blood off his face. Is he shaking?

No, there is no way she can go in and confront this. This is going to take some skill. Recognisance. This is heavy. She backs up. Never in her life has her instincts told her to run more than they are right now. She's always had a sort of comfort even in the unknown with her job. But this right here…it's like she's watching vampires in a horror movie. Vampires are not real so she doesn't know. For now, she just runs. What she doesn't see is Russ catching a glimpse of her.

He'll have to make contact now. Which he didn't want to do.

Jack watches her pacing the room, disappearing out of the computer view only to march back into it and then out the other side. He's never seen her this frazzled before. She's spooked. Whatever she saw, which he has yet to get out of her, rattled her. When she had sat – just for a second before she was up – she shoved her hand out in front of the camera so that it was profile, and it shook. The tremor was scary.

'Okay, slow down, tell me what it was you saw.'

To his surprise she takes a seat, but she doesn't sit still. She turns over her shoulder and then leans into the camera. 'Jack…I think I saw…I don't know what I saw. Do you think…vampires are real? Like really real? Because to me, honestly, it looked like I witnessed something that I shouldn't have, but I was spying to what did I expect? I dunno, probably anything other than three people feasting upon the neck of a scared woman!'

'Okay, I don't know where to attack first. What? Vampires are not real, Rose. You know that.'

'Well that sure as hell looked like what I saw. Straight outta the movies.'

'So…did you talk to them.' Jack notices that she stares at him as though he were nuts. Wide eyed before they narrow and she folds her arms.

'Oh yes, let me go back there and write a new version of _Interview with the Vampire_.'

'Settle down, Anne Rice, I was only wondering.' Jack responds curtly.

'I'm sorry.'

'Maybe you should come back, we'll attack this thing together-…' Jack is surprised when she holds her hand out and abruptly turns over her shoulder. Jack feels his heart quicken. If anything happened to her…he can't get there. Why did he will away his manipulator? He doesn't regret at lot in life, but that mistake is one of them that continues to haunt him. They had followed her back. They know where she is…he holds his breath as Rose picks up her gun and creeps quietly towards the door.

She peaks around the curtain. Sees nothing. But Jack notices her head drops to the floor. She bends down to pick something up before reading it and walking back to the computer. She shakes her head and turns the paper towards her before flipping it so that Jack can also see the message.

 _Marion. Rendez-moi au 67 voie due canal. Nous pareons. Je vous le dirai tout._

Rose and Jack lock eyes.

* * *

Dean downs the rest of his beer and signals the waitress to bring him another one. He reaches forward and picks up Sam's beer, it's still half full. He shakes his head and steals a few unclaimed French fries from Sam's plate. They had canvassed the local area asking people if there had been anyone new to the town in the last few days. Surprisingly and maybe even a bit thankfully, people in small towns are nosy and usually have a tight control on who comes and goes. And as it just so happened six people came in though the woman they were with was usually the only one who interacted with people. The men she was with lingered outside, never spoke to anyone other than themselves or her. She also looked sickly and pale. They also never came out to do things until dusk, usually making an appearance just before the shops closed for the night.

One gossipy old woman who chatted mostly to Sam said that they – the townspeople - were worried that woman was being exploited, as explained with a raised eyebrow. After all the woman was pretty enough. When they moved to the drugstore, thankfully with cameras facing the door, and had taken a look at the woman the owner said she had purchased three bottles of iron pills. Dean had recalled her face. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Where? The owner brought up the exterior of the building. Five men. And then they jumped to the next day. Four men and the woman. The missing man had to be their John Doe. But the woman. It had bugged him. He was sure he had seen her face. Maybe if they got to her first, they could get information. She must be the key to the vampires. They're using her to feed. What a mess.

On the way back to the Impala, Dean had recalled her name. Layla Ramirez. Sam had frowned and he led him to the police station and in the front foyer, a bulletin board with Layla's picture on it. She'd been missing for four months.

Sam glances down to his plate and notices that half his fries are gone and glares at Dean while he accepts another beer. All he had been doing was checking out the security footage and Dean swiped half his food. Not wanting the burger to fall victim next, Sam takes a bite.

'Okay so we found Layla. She's what's keeping the vamps alive. It looks like it's just the little nest of them.' Sam surmises. Dean takes a long a drink from the beer.

'Until they start signing up recruits.' He replies and glances out the window. Sun is setting. Will they go and look for another human to fill their need?

'Right. Did you notice though that there was one of them that stuck close to Layla?' Sam wonders and turns the computer around to show that one man lingers closer to Layla. Dean frowns.

'Yeah. Okay so what? He's an uh, bodyguard? Must know her.'

'Possible I guess. So what? He feels sorry for her?' Sam surmises and Dean shrugs.

'Must be new. Not really diggin' a vamp's life.' Dean finishes off the rest of his beer and watches Sam frowning over the images from the surveillance cameras.

'They seem to be everywhere, I don't seem them hanging out in front of place for long. I don't know if they even have a nest here.' Sam takes a swig of beer and Dean sighs impatiently.

'There's always a catch, we coulda been home sleeping in our beds like normal people but instead we gotta track down some rouge vamps,' Dean brings one of the pictures to his face. He frowns. 'Well, they usually stake out the pharmacy, why don't we start there.'

Sam nods and studies the vampires in the pictures. Besides Layla and the guy that seems to linger around her, the other two look as though they've been in this life for some time. There is a reserved fear and uncertainty in the one guy's eyes while Layla looks sickly and defeated – not that he could blame her, feeding three people, she's running out of time. Those other two vampires clearly rule together. For some reason the fourth man that was with them and subsequently killed could signal a power struggle between those three. Maybe an attempted escape or to help Layla. A lot of questions. There usually isn't time to answer them all. Right now, they have a young woman they need to save and three vamps to ice. They can get Layla's side after they rescue her.

* * *

'I still don't like the idea of you going in alone. Especially after you describe the scene of vampires feasting on human flesh and or blood.' Jack laments again for the fifth time in her ear. She shuffles the headphones around in her ears and draws her hood up.

'Yes, I know. You've made it abundantly clear. I don't like it either. But hey, it's Russ…I mean I don't think he'd hurt me…'

'That doesn't make it any better.' Jack scolds and Rose swallows a lump in her throat. No, he's right. It doesn't make it better. If anything, it makes it oddly worse.

The only thing that makes her feel somewhat secure is the fact that Russ has requested to meet in daylight. Not at the factory like setting from earlier but close by, at an older theatre. Why the need for abandon like settings is beyond her but it's daylight. If he was a vampire, they'd be burned by sunlight – wouldn't they?

No, her rational mind refuses to believe that is what she actually witnessed. It's impossible. Things like that do not exist in the slightest. They can't. Can they? Aliens exist. She time travels, she goes to different planets…why can't something like a vampire exist? No. No, the myth of vampires is exactly that, a myth, superstition. She didn't see what she thought she saw in that clearing. Russ will clear it up. He has to.

Birds chirp overhead as she makes her way into the field from the other night. She doesn't get how the scenery can be just as eerie in the daytime as the night.

'Jack…I don't see anyone there…' Rose tells him and carefully begins to descend the grassy hill from the road. Jack sighs into her ear.

'Those other people he's with, maybe they go out at the same time every day. This is the only safe way to talk to you.' Jack surmises and Rose feels the dread build as the grey building grows closer. Jack can only hear her soft breathing in the phone once and a while, he grows nervous for her.

The building before her is nothing more than an abandoned warehouse of some kind, the aged steel is stained with rust and graffiti as Rose circles the building a few times. The windows have broken panes and as gust of wind passes, it whistles around her, adding to her discomfort. She has to tell herself multiple times that it's just a warehouse and there is nothing unassuming lurking in there. Nothing at all. So she circles back to the only small door she had seen, no bay doors, just a faded green one. It's not locked when she pulls on the handle. She doesn't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Rose inhales deeply and collects herself. 'I'm going in…'

Jack finds himself holding his breath as he hears the door scrap loudly in his ear and Rose attempt to yank it shut. Well if there were people in there and she was trying to be stealth, she's blown it.

'What do you see?' Jack exhales slightly and hears her footsteps echoing around her. He sighs. This isn't good. He wants to be there for backup. Even if he tried he wouldn't make it in time. Not from Cardiff to London. Next time he's there, he'll have to beg Kate to let him have the manipulator back.

Rose scans the decommissioned warehouse. The concrete floor is cracked, weeds have actually begun to sprout through. In the back-left corner is a massive pile of rusted machinery. This was a packaging warehouse of some kind, years ago. In fact, there are still a few cardboard boxes that are stacked on a flat surface of the parts. When she continues to study her surroundings, she notices that there is a staircase on the right had side that leads up to a suspended square office, perhaps where the foreman or plant supervisor would reside during the shift. It extends further out to become a catwalk, though some of the iron rails on either side look warped due to neglect. It doesn't look entirely structurally sound.

'A lot of junk. But there is an office, maybe-…' Rose pauses and strains to hear harder. That's a noise she didn't expect to hear.

'What? What is it?'

'I think I just heard…chains rattling. I'll call you-…'

'No, nope. Not gonna happen. Keep me on the line.' Jack interrupts and Rose nods to no one. She looks around and studies the shadows in the corners. She doesn't see anything move or feel as though she's being watched. That does make her feel…better. Slightly.

She looks up to top of the stairs were a small landing gives way to an office door with a section of glass that has a crack that has flowered out, but oddly hasn't fallen into pieces. She bites the corner of her lip and slowly walks up the stairs, the iron steps creak under her weight and announce her imminent arrival to whomever is in the office – so she keeps her hand close to her gun.

Her hand hovers over the knob for just a moment and she opens the door quickly and gasps at what she sees. There is a young woman, under thirty lying on an old, grey mattress – stained from god knows what. He right ankle is chained to the wall and other an old telly, newspapers and magazines, there is not much else for entertainment. The woman herself looks pale and sickly. When Rose opened the door, her eyes barely moved to her, and when they did they were glassy – she didn't register there was someone new to her. She is covered in bruises, some are fresh and others have faded into a prominent yellow that stand out against the dark circles under her eyes. Her clothes are wrinkled and dirty as well – and very much two sizes too large. Her black hair hangs in a matte lump, knotted and dirty. This woman is so in need of her help, Rose forgets momentarily why she's even there.

'Jack…there's a woman here. I think she's being held captive…by those men…' Rose breathes and Jack utters his disbelief. Rose carefully approaches the woman, not that she'd be able to run, she looks as though if she stood she'd fall over.

'Who are you?' The woman whispers, voice cracking from lack of use. 'Are you a new one? Did they get you too?'

'What does she mean by that?' Jack questions in her ear and Rose frowns. She sits beside the woman hoping to gain some of her trust. But she's immediately met with a harsh glare and the woman turns herself from her.

'I don't understand…can you help me to? Who is holding you here?' Rose tries and woman turns over to her but continues to eye her suspiciously. After an awkward lapse in time has passed Rose attempts a different angle. 'Will you tell me your name?'

The woman looks her over and Rose pushes the hood off her face a bit more and she can see the woman. There is still a strong element of distrust. The woman continues to study Rose and she fears as though the woman will not give her an opportunity. Jack's been silent in her ear and she's also been listening to hear if there is anyone else coming. Maybe Russ got scared off and isn't coming – but then why lead her here where this woman is captive?

After all, surely, he had to know she'd go inside and explore, it isn't as though he's never worked with her before. And if he knew this woman was there then why not attempt to scare her off? There is something not right…she can feel it.

The woman begins to play with the bottom of her shirt, twisting it to make the hole bigger. 'My name is Layla. Ramirez.'

Rose hear Jack furiously typing away at the mention of that. Okay so he'll work on her backstory while she tries to wrap her head around what the hell is going on here. She wishes she had some water or food to bring her. Maybe if she can get this lock picked, she can escort Layla back to town and get her far away from these people as possible.

'Hi Layla, I'm Rose.'

Layla eyes her and then shrinks back slightly. 'Did they bring you here too? The men? Or…are you already one of them? Please, I can't do anymore. I feel sick and dizzy.'

'I'm not sure what men you're talking about, and I'm certainly not one of them – whatever they are,' Rose pauses and see the instant relief in Layla. She can practically see her guard drop. 'I actually…I'm actually here to meet Russ. This is where he told me to be. I think I'm early.'

'Russ…he's been so nice to me, given what's happened to him. The others…he tries to keep them in line. When to back off me…he treats me nicely because he doesn't need me. He goes for livestock instead. But I think…' Layla pauses and looks around before leaning into Rose just a bit. 'I think he's going to try it. I think he's getting weaker…it'll only be a matter of time.'

'I'm not sure I understand…those men, the ones who kidnapped you-…'

'And my brother. And killed him.' Layla informs her bitterly. Her eyes become glassy with tears.

'I'm sorry…' Rose feels the urgency to get her out grow stronger. 'I'm sorry about your brother. But what I'd really like to is get you out. Are you able to walk?'

Layla looks away. She wraps her arms around herself and her eyes fill with tears. 'I don't think it'll make a difference. I tried to get out once before. My brother distracted them and I got away. But they found me. They always find me…'

Rose bites the corner of her lip and looks over her shoulder to make sure they're still alone. Not that she'd be able to tell however she hasn't heard anything that might give her a clue either. She hears Jack in her ear tell her to just warp back with this girl. They'll assess her and get her help in Cardiff. And then take her back to America once she's well to begin again…if she wants. Once she's in his hands, he tells her, she can come back and deal with Russ. And find out what the hell is going on.

Rose takes Layla's hand in her own and is a little shocked when Layla's grip tightens. 'What if I could take you far away from here?'

Layla observes Rose begin to pick the lock. It would be so much easier if she hadn't had the sonic made by John destroyed by the Sontarans. Gently she continues to pick the lock until it pops free and Rose hastily shoves it off of Layla. In turn Layla rubs her ankle.

'Can you really take me away from here?' Layla watches Rose get to her feet and she offers her Layla her hand.

'I promise I can.' Rose replies and for the first time there is a light – just a small one – in Layla's eyes. The corners of her mouth tug upward into a faint smile. She reaches up and takes Rose's hand tightly. Rose hauls her up. Layla looks worse in this light than before. She needs a hot meal, long shower and a longer rest.

They begin to descend the stairs at a slow pace – slower than what Rose would have liked – however she keeps a tight grip on Layla's hand, hoping to convey to her that she isn't going anywhere. They soon are mere steps from the door and Rose can see that Layla is growing more hopeful with each shaky step forward.

So, when they hear footsteps crunching on the gravel outside Layla, gasps and covers her own mouth in fear of alerting whoever is out there that they are going to be escaping. The light in her dies and she clings to Rose for safety. Not wanting Layla to see her own reservations about this encounter, Rose musters her own courage so she will be able to assess this situation.

Rose turns to Layla and holds her by the shoulders. 'Listen. Hide behind the door when it opens. I'll distract them. Slip away and wait for me at the Jewell Motel. I'm in room twelve. Here's the key,' she shoves the key into Layla's trembling hands. Layla stares up at her with massive eyes – glassy with tears. She's scared. Rose is right there with her. 'It'll be okay. Don't worry. I'll keep them distracted as long as I can. And I'll be right behind you.'

'No, no, they'll be too strong for you. I'll just…I'll just go upstairs. It'll be fine. Thanks…thank-…'

Rose cuts her off. 'Go wait behind the door. It'll be fine. Now. Go. No buts.'

Layla nods her head and as fast as she can, she moves behind the door while Rose adjusts her hood, pulling it over her eyes while she waits for whoever it is behind that door to reveal themselves. She takes a few steps back and checks her pockets for her toys. The gun on her thigh is loaded. She can reload from the cartridges she has stashed on her. Though if she is dealing with something…supernatural, will it even work? It has to. Those bullets can put aliens to sleep, why not vampires? Why is she rationalising this? Lord help her. She nods at Layla and presses her finger to her lips before dropping her hands to her sides.

The door swings open and dust is pushed through, clouding her vision but shields Layla from view. The figure strides towards her. Layla removes her shoes and quietly slips past him. Rose widens her eyes as the man greets her. She feels her stomach flip and swallows her nerves unsure of what to expect from this meeting. She looks at the man before her. She keeps her guard up. If he's as close to the edge as Layla claims he is…who knows what could set him off. And yet he gives off an air of being himself. Cocky but sure of himself.

Despite keeping her guard up with good intentions, she finds herself slipping as she eases herself into the comfort of their shared language and his casualness about this whole…ordeal. Whatever it is. He hasn't let her speak. Which is good because she wouldn't know what to say nor where to begin. Instead she nods stupidly through wide eyes and a stony gaze.

Eventually he holds her at arm's length and sighs, the guise crumbles away and in an instant the wears of the last few months etch themselves into his face. He appears to age as he lets the stress gnaw away at him.

'Qui suis-je plaisantais? Je ne vais pas bien. Et je suis certain que vous avez beaucoup de questions. Permettez-moi de commencer dès le début ...'

Layla looks over her shoulder and dashes from the street she's on to the adjacent once, taking refuge in an alleyway. She huffs and gathers her breath, saliva gathering in her mouth and she swallows, her throat dry and heart pounding. She's close. She thinks. She knows they've passed the Jewell Motel before. She's gonna make it. She can feel it. Sweetness of the freedom she's been deprived of for so long will soon be hers to recapture. She bites the corner of her lip and glances over her shoulder. She knows that Rose will come back. There was conviction in her voice. And she will wait. A better life awaits her. Once Rose gets back. But she's gotta get there first.

She grips the corner of the building and pushes herself off and runs as quick as she can a few blocks, an older black car passes her and it screeches to a halt. She panics. Those could be them. They did need to get a new car since the engine died on the Winnebago. She wants to scream and abruptly detours into another alleyway, hiding around the corner of another business and behind a dumpster. She prays it isn't those creeps. She hopes they don't find her. She had been so, so careful…

* * *

Sam gently removes his hand from the dash and stares at Dean who is glaring at the alleyway in which he's stopped in front of. He turns his head as well to hopefully see what Dean does, but there isn't anything there. He frowns and turns his gaze back to Dean.

'Why'd you stop?' Sam questions and Dean reverses the car into a parking spot and stares out of the back window. He can't question himself now. He knows he saw something…

'I saw her. I saw Layla. I know it.' Dean replies and frowns. There is no movement in the alleyway. Was he seeing things? No, it was her dark hair…Sam's inquisitive gaze is getting real annoying. She knows something. And if they can get to her, then maybe she'll help them solve this problem. She the epi centre of this mess.

'Uh okay, want to check it out?' Sam watches his brother stay silent, waiting for the gears in his head to provide an answer. He may say no…but it'll bug him if he doesn't know for certain. The decision is made by Dean throwing open the car door and shutting it.

Sam frowns and observes Dean in the side mirror on the passenger side as he stomps into the alleyway and then shifts his gaze to the rear-view mirror. A quick but trained eye scans the area. And when nothing is found, Dean comes back to the car and leans against the open window and points his finger in Sam's face.

'Don't say anything…' Dean opens the car door and gets in. He puts the car into drive and peels out of the spot. Sam notices that he doesn't go very far before he's pulled into another alleyway, reversing carefully, ready to go.

It isn't long of a wait before Sam notices a pair of men who just don't seem to fit into this little idyllic town. They're walking as though they have a mission to complete. One of them points to the alley they had just been in. Now they have his attention…

* * *

Layla breathes a small sigh. Her heart is racing. Her fingers shake when she holds her hand out in front of her. She was certain that the man who came into the alleyway. Her mouth is dry and twists her hair out of her face she peers around the dumpster and doesn't see the black car or the man. A relieved smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and she grips the dumpster to push herself off and complete the rest of the trek to the motel when a can rolls out from somewhere. She widens her eyes and her stomach flips. A cold sweat comes over her.

She attempts to walk casually to the entrance of the alleyway. But it doesn't last. Another can is kicked. Maybe it's the same one. She looks over her shoulder but sees nothing. She breaks out into a quick jog, panicking as she's looking over her shoulder, terrified she's going to see them emerge from behind her unexpectedly she runs into something that send her back and she lands on the ground and looks up. A whimper escapes her lip.

She shies away when a hand reaches down and picks her up by front of shirt. Something in her becomes defeated and she withdraws. When he backhands her she feels nothing. Her limbs are heavy. Her head lolls to the side and she stares empty to the ground. Nothing can save her. No one will come. She had freedom. And it slipped between her fingers.

'Layla. Come on. Layla. I'm beggin' darlin', please…' he chuckles at his own joke. She doesn't know who this Eric Clapton is, but she's sick of that song called Layla. Every time they tease her they do it in a sing song voice that drives her up the wall. 'What were you doing? Out for a stroll?'

'I think she was trying to find a way to escape.' Another voice replies assuredly. The man holding her agrees. She turns away as he places a kiss on her cheek. She can feel the hot breath from him on her neck and she's certain that once again she'll be drained within an inch of her life. Like every other time. Only this time, Russ isn't there to save her.

'Layla, we warned you the last time that if you attempted something like this again, you'd be punished. Your brother took the punishment for the last time. Russ covered for you as well. This time…there is no one to hear you scream.'

Odd statement to make, considering the people of this town are but a scream away. Even so…he's right. She doesn't have the heart to scream because she feels as though she's comfortable in accepting death. It makes her feel peculiarly calm.

'There will be others like you. And we feel as though you've worn your welcome. So I guess this where we part ways, darlin'. Any final words?'

Layla turns up to them and while reserved in her fate – something in her always knew this would be how it would end – a final spark of fire smoulders out; she spits in his face. 'Yeah. Go fu-…'

He snaps her neck before she can finish the insult. Limply she is cradled by him and he gently sets her on the ground and shakes his head.

'We should drain her, while the blood is still warm.' The second man interjects and the first man stares as the life drains away from her eyes. Tempting. But they're down a key member of their little group. And they have to act quickly. Livestock is not something he aims to feed from.

'Not now. You idiot. We need to get another and fast. And then question that idiot Russ. He was supposed to be watching her. Instead he let her escape, probably helped her too.'

'I say we make him pick the next one.'

'Good idea. That warehouse isn't safe anymore. We'll need to find somewhere else.'

They walk out of the alleyway together and pass two men who are talking outside of the alley. They exchange looks and nod at one another. When sufficient distance has been placed between them, Sam and Dean peer into the alleyway and see Layla lying there. Dean backs out to sprint to the Impala. A warehouse. They've gotta find it. He revs the engines and they come to life, he turns the car to the alleyway while Sam stands there with the phone in his hand.

'Yeah, 911? I'd like to report a murder. Alleyway between Henderson's and Brig's Things. My name? Sure it's-…' Sam hangs up the phone and jumps into the car when Dean pulls up.

Layla stands at the mouth of the alleyway and watches the black car drive away. She shouldn't have been so concerned with self-preservation. She should have perhaps attempted to trust those around her. She turns over her shoulder and looks at her own body lying on the ground, staring at the faded brick of the business just beyond it. Now what? She's no clue what happens next.

'Layla?'

She turns over to see a black woman with a red leather jacket and ruby lips standing by her body. She doesn't know who this woman is but she's compelled to follow her. She's drawn to her.

'Who are you?'

The woman smiles at her. As though she should know. 'Name's Billie. Now, come with me…'

They had heard those men talking about a warehouse. The only one that they could have been referring to was one that was on the outskirts of town. This one was the only one that had been out of business for any length of time and hadn't already been sold to a developer, so essentially a perfect place for vamps to crash and make a nest. It still sounds as though it's a small nest. Three maybe more, nothing they can't on. They'll avenge Layla. Though it sounds as though this Russ struggles with being what he is, so he may willingly volunteer to have his head removed. Dean puts the car into park and exchanges a look with Sam. They nod and get out of the car. Dean unlocks the trunk of the Impala and they look for the biggest, baddest…

* * *

They pause and look at the warehouse. There was just a noise that sounded as though someone got knocked into something. Like there's a fight going on. Did they get lucky and those goons are here and fighting amongst themselves. They get to take the winner on? So be it.

'Well, the faster we're in, the faster we're out. On the way home, we need to pick up beer. I drank the last one.' Dean informs Sam and Sam flings him a look.

'Seriously? We just bought that.' Sam replies and they walk towards the door and Dean shrugs.

'What? We're living in stressful, end of times, times.'

'We always live in stressful, end of times, times,' Sam counters and again they frown when a shout of pain erupts from the building. 'I hope they finish each other off. I'm kinda hungry.'

'Yeah, same. What are you thinking?'

'I don't know, anywhere where you don't eat my food.' Sam shoots Dean a look, Dean in turns looks as though he's been insulted. Someone's yelling. Almost like a one-sided argument. And it isn't in English. Did…did they go to the wrong place? No…every other warehouse on the way out of town was occupied. This was the only one Sam could find that didn't currently have an owner.

Someone gets tossed into something large that rattle – drums? Barrels? They're empty. Just loud. Shouts of pain. It's nice to finally catch a break. Together they nod and Dean's hand hovers towards the door handle. He pauses and listens to the scuffle. Sam hands his machete to Dean, and draws his gun instead. It won't kill them, but if they enter and those clowns that are fighting see them and come at them, it will slow them down. Just a bit. Sam holds up his hand and counts to three. Dean throw open the door. The second he does, three shuriken drive themselves into the metal door. It catches them both off guard. A figure in a long black coat with a hood drawn over their head stares at them – they think. The person's face is obscured. They hold their hand to their side and the boys see a steady stream of blood dripping down.

There is another figure rolling from their stomach to their back. This is a man and he gets up to his feet. The boys notice that the man's attention falls to the figure in black's arm and the man's left eye twitches. That must be the vamp. Dean pries the shuriken out of the door to see that they are covered in blood. Interesting – whose is it?

'C'est fortu! Je m'en fous…' the man tells the figure in black. It doesn't get a response from them. The man continues to stare in shock. 'Say something!' he shouts in heavily accented English. 'I'm sorry for attacking you. It's the blood…I can't run from it. I hear it…flowing in you. I can't say no anymore…'

The boys exchange a look and Sam points to the only one of the two who has spoken. That's their vamp. But what about the lone figure in black? Where do they fit in? They dare not speak in case their tiff shifts to them. Sam motions to Dean that they should leave. This isn't their fight – yet. Dean wants to stay. He wants to see where this goes. He points to the figure in black and mouths the word ninja. Sam frowns at Dean, who finds the grin on his face disappearing. Thanks for spoiling my fun, his expression tells Sam.

The viciousness of the attack on the figure in black startles them. Perhaps as equally startling, is the figure in black does an incredible job of keeping up with a jacked-up vamp. Granted, they see that this man's hits are felt by their figure in black. When hit, they are knocked off balance but do recover quickly. Their fighting looks like a careful choreographed Hollywood fight scene. Or an MMX round. The figure it black runs to the wall and leaps onto it, springing off to land a punch into the man's cheek. He stumbles back and then charges, the figure in black easily side steps and takes off running. The man chases after them and lunges, tackling the figure to the ground. A swift kick to the man's face with the figure's boot makes him shout and curse. He rolls back and the figure gets up with a swiftness, stalking towards the man and delivering a hard kick to his ribs. They jump back suddenly, hands at guard when the man gets up – wiping his own blood off his face. He smirks at the figure.

'I miss our little sessions. C'est la vie…'

The figure in black says nothing. Instead they continue to battle it out, each hit methodical and calculated to inflict as much damage as possible. The entire floor is their domain and the boys watch them use whatever materials around them as something for leverage to spring off of and land a hit. The man strikes the figure with an uppercut and they stumble back into the wall, ducking as the man takes a swing, fist colliding with the wall and cracking the concrete. The figure dashes up the stairs, fending off the attacks from the man.

When they get to the cat walk landing, the figure grips the iron railings and hoists themselves up as the man lunges and misses. The figure turns around, backing up as the man charges. The figure jumps and grips onto a steel support beam. The man chuckles and waits for the figure to drop back down. Which they do, only after shuffling away. They drop to the ground and the man rushes for another tackle. They tussle. The figure in black punches the man square in the jaw and the momentum of that hit sends him into the rotten iron railing. It gives way and he falls to the ground below with a loud crunch.

The figure steps to the end of the catwalk and jumps down. They land gracefully and pick up two pieces of broken pipe that lie off to the side, rolling them around in their hands. The man gets up and looks pissed. The figure lowers themselves and springs off their feet, staying low they rush the man. One, two, three, the figure has rolled to the side and leapt up, twisting and barraging the man with strikes from the pipe. He blocks them. He's hit by others before he throws his forearm up and absorbs the hit from the pipe. In surprising speed, he's disarmed the figure of their weapons. He inhales deeply and smiles at the figure while tossing the pipes aside as they raise their fists to guard.

He grips the front of the figure's coat and pulls them forward before summoning the strength he knows is in there, he shoves the figure back. The strength from the hit back sends the figure flying through the air and into a pile of overturned industrial drums. The man laughs. Sam and Dean wait for the figure to get up, silently hoping they're rooting for the right side. After a couple of second of silence, Sam begins to move towards the drums however Dean grips his arm and shakes his head. So they wait.

Several more seconds pass before they see the figure emerge, slowly getting to their feet. Their fists are balled in obvious annoyance and the man hoots at the figure. Surprisingly the figure reaches up and pulls the hood down and a waterfall of golden hair tumbles down her back. It's a she?! The boys exchange incredulous looks. She tosses the jacket aside and turns around to face the man. He waves at her as she slings her hair up. She rotates her shoulders a few times before her right-hand presses something on her hip and she springs over the drums with ease and takes off running, disappearing in a flash. The boys look around and even the man is surprised at her move. He looks around and in a split second the woman appears and punches him in the kidney before vanishing. He shouts in anger, swinging at nothing, and turns around only to see her there again – he takes another strike from her fist to the nose. She's gone. He spins around and the only reason he finds out where she is, is because she hits him. He feels around for her, trying to anticipate her movements but fails each time.

'Demon?' Sam leans in and whispers. Dean continues to watch the vanishing act. The final time she's appeared running at the man, disappearing, and then using the wall to her left as a springboard as she reappears to hit the man in the face. She's gone. Time seems to slow as he descends to the ground. The woman reappears with her knee lifted and delivers another strike to the man's gut. He flies backward but flips and sticks his hand down to the ground to use as leverage while he rights himself up. The woman's already there, rolling to the side and kicking him in his back.

'I don't smell sulphur. Maybe a witch?' Dean replies and he nudges Sam when the woman has a gun drawn to the man. He laughs at her. Where'd she get the gun?

'Still think we should get the holy water from the car.' Sam advises and Dean nods his head.

'Non. It won't work on me, I'm too-…'

She fires the gun and pegs the man in the chest. Blue liquid stains the white shirt the man's wearing. He walks towards her. She fires another round. He stops and frowns. Blinking he feels funny, heavy, like being sedated – this shouldn't affect him! The woman has a scary look of determination on her face and marches towards the man, the gun goes off again. She pauses in front of him and he falls to his knees. Not even the smell of the blood that trickles from her nose, forehead and the deep gash on her arm and shoulder is enough to rally the strength he needs to bleed her dry. How can he be brought down by a sedative they feed those aliens that are aggressive first and ask questions later. He can hear the blood pounding in her veins. And it won't get him off his knees. The light becomes too bright. He can see the gold flecks in her eyes burning into him. The world begins to spin. It's the vivid light making him sick before it cuts to black and he falls forward. He doesn't move. The woman sniffs.

'Va te faire foutre,' the woman holsters her gun and wipes under her nose with the back of her hand. She inspects her arm and sighs as she walks towards the over turned drums and collects her jacket. She's carefully sliding it on when she decides to address the other members in this room. 'I hope you lot won't be in my way when I walk towards that door, yeah?'

Sam and Dean look around and stare at one another. Sam takes a careful step forward, Dean's smitten with her accent.

'Not unless you answer some questions.' Sam ventures and the woman pauses and tilts her chin away from him. He swallows. Why does she look so fierce again? Adrenaline still coursing through her? She deposits her hands on her hips.

'I beg your pardon?'

'We have questions for you.' Dean repeats and the woman pinches the bridge of her nose.

'Listen. I don't have time for pleasantries. I've had enough weirdness for one day and I have to get back to someone who's waiting for me. I don't want to kick your arses too, but I will.'

'That someone happened to be named Layla?' Dean questions and the woman's hand hovers over her gun on her thigh. Sam watches and carefully cocks the gun in his hand.

'What'd you do to her?'

'Nothing. She's dead. Vamps must have gotten to her.' Dean replies and the woman closes her eyes, curses lightly and glances back to the man on the floor. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone, texting quietly, she walks towards them and they ready themselves. However, she pays them no mind, continuing towards the door. She does take note of the machetes the one blond man holds. It does intrigue her…

She attempts to walk past them but Dean grabs her arm. Sam feels the change in air as the woman turns around and glares at him. She shakes herself free and pockets the phone. Sam doesn't know what happened but Dean's suddenly on the ground wincing in pain as the woman drops her hands from guard. The machetes clatter to the ground. Sam holds the gun at her and the woman rolls her eyes. Dean coughs a few times, the hit to the gut nearly made him vomit the contents of his stomach.

'Holy crap…' Dean breathes through the pain and Sam glances down to him.

'You okay?'

'She's quick. Don't take your eyes off her.' Dean warns and Sam is about to shift back to her when her foot shoots up and knocks the gun loose from Sam's hand. He reaches to grab it but she's turned sideways and she throws a side kick at him. Sam stumbles backward and she holds the gun in her hand aiming it at them.

'Listen. This isn't time for egos. That knockout juice isn't going to keep that man in there down for long. So I've got to get him out of here and decide what to do with him.' She informs them and slides the cartridge out of the gun. She tosses the cartridge onto Dean's stomach and he winces from the pain. Sam helps Dean up and they stare at the woman. There's a tension in the air that isn't getting better. Only worse.

Sam vies for a new angle. 'Okay, sounds like we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. We've never met a hunter like you before. Did you just come over from the UK?'

The woman gives them a spiteful glare. 'What the hell are you talking about? A hunter? Does it look like I'm out to bag myself a couple of deer?'

'No, not…not that kind of hunting.' Dean wheezes and clears his throat. Crap…she certainly doesn't hit like a girl. She's all small and petite…never judge a book by the cover.

'Oh, so you're telling me that you two take care of the oddities in the world? Like whatever happened to that man in there?' The woman wonders sarcastically and Sam nods his head.

'Yeah. That's what we do. We're hunters. We hunt monsters.'

The woman crosses her arms and eyes them. They're serious. There is not a shred of lies in their eyes. Only pain – well caused by her. She can get a bit excitable. 'Huh…okay, so you hunt monsters? And I thought my world was odd. What kind of monsters?'

Dean inhales deeply and shrugs. 'A little bit of everything. Demons, werewolves, ghosts. You know, the likes. You name it and we've probably hunted it.'

They are surprised by the face the woman makes. As though they've said something that rings a bell. Maybe back where she's from, they don't use the word hunter, maybe it's called something else.

'Ugh, ghosts, yes I know that one all too well. Demons…? That's…ominous,' she smiles. It's a genuine smile. Dean loves it, she's got a killer smile. Sam's relieved that the raging adrenaline is fading. 'What you say you do is beyond odd. Then again, who am I to talk? But werewolves, too? Funny, I met a werewolf one time. Turned out it was an alien.'

Dean nods his head approvingly and nudges Sam, though they don't quite understand the alien comment, unless she's talking about little green men from Mars. Now who's crazy? 'So, you're a hunter too. That's good. Welcome to the team.'

'Sorry. I'm not a hunter. Though, I reckon I have been exposed to parts of your world. But we don't mesh together. Not with what I do,' she informs them and Sam watches Dean deflate before his eyes. 'So, you take out the monsters in this world. Are they all bad? Do you ever meet good ones? I'm certain not all strange creatures you meet are bad ones.'

Dean smiles dismissively and perhaps a tad ironically. 'Sweetheart, I'll believe it when I see it.'

The boys watch her check her watch and then her phone. She turns her back to them and they glance at each other. They have questions. Lots of them, though they've gauged that she's secretive person who isn't apt to trusting strangers easily. So they have to keep working up to gain her trust, they more they talk about themselves maybe the quicker she'll drop the attitude.

'Right boys, well it's been a slice, yeah? I'm collecting my trophy and taking him back home.' She declares and the boys look over to where the man is still on the ground. Clearly, they know one another. Then they get defensive. What if she's a vamp too? Dean gives Sam a look and he nods. They're on the same page. Good.

'Across the pond?' Dean mimics her accent and she flings him an unimpressed look. 'Look, unless you plan on rolling him up in a carpet and lying to customs, you won't get far. Let us handle this. He's our problem now.'

'Actually, my way of travel doesn't involve customs. And he's my problem. Because he's one of mine,' she counters and that indicates to them all they need to know. They raise the machetes and she looks rather bored and unimpressed. She reaches for a gun strapped to her thigh. 'I don't know what you're doing, but I have a quick trigger finger. You'll be on your backs out cold before you blink. By the time you come to, I'll be long gone. So do yourselves a favour and stay out of my way.'

Dean glances to Sam and they both lower their machetes. The woman's hand moves away from the gun. There's that tension again. 'Listen, Blondie, you've already indicated that you have never seen or dealt with a vamp before, so you're green on that. You don't know the only way to kill one-…'

'Kill one? No, no, I aim to fix him.'

'How? You know who sired him? You gonna get a mason jar filled with blood? I gotta warn ya, that's a painful process for your pal over there.' Dean motions to the man and woman glances past him but just briefly. Sam notices that there seems to be a disjoint in conversation. They are not on the same page. The woman arches her eyebrow at Dean and shakes her head.

'No. I'm going to take him back and study him.'

'He's not a science project.'

'He is to me.'

'No, he's a new vampire who sounds as though he just has his first taste of human blood. No, shut up and listen,' Dean immediately regrets the choice of words because there is a darkness that comes over her eyes but she does remain quiet. Those golden flecks in her eyes burn holes through him – so he attempts to finish up quickly. 'You know what's gonna happen to him? Blood lust, he's going to go out and find victims. Feasting on them. Just like Layla. You know how you stop that? With this. Quick and clean. Beheading. It's the only way they'll stay dead.'

Sam watches the woman as she considers Dean's words. Her face is stoic but he can almost see the gears turning in her head. She shifts her gaze over to the man who has still not come around from the crap she shot him with. He kinda wants to know what it is, especially if it's powerful enough to knock a vamp out. He thinks back to the conversation that they've had so far. She hasn't revealed much. They don't know her name. They don't know what she does – just that it isn't hunting. Part of him believes that. But that comment – her world, what could that mean? What else is there? Is she part of some organisation that collects monsters and studies them – hoping to find a cure for everything? That way if something bad happens, like someone becoming a vamp, they have a cure for them? It sounds like a good theory.

Could explain her fighting skills – he's never seen someone fight that well before. Which makes him even more nervous. Where does she belong and who are her allegiances to? He does get the feeling that she is being honest, she's not here to hurt them, they just crossed paths at an odd time. There is still a heavy air of mistrust and no matter how many times they attempt to bridge the gap, it's getting worse. Mostly because of Dean and his inability to play nice. They could use her talents.

Though how do they get her to quit being so cold and distant? She isn't receptive of their olive branch, instead she'd rather continue to butt heads with them and who's going to be taking care of the man that continues to remain unconscious on the ground. Her stubbornness isn't helping either. She can Dean continue to argue. They don't even know her name. Maybe he should attempt to lead the conversation for a change. He can be a bit more…diplomatic, more sympathetic than Dean can be.

Sam clears his throat and Dean and the woman fall silent. Her arms are crossed and again there is that frigid look on her face. Those golden flecks in her hazel eyes smoulder like embers and he finds it hard not to fall into a trance from her stare. If they can get her to the trunk of the car, then they can douse her with some holy water, see if she's a demon. Failing that, they do have a couple of witch killing bullets left…

'I'm sorry that we're coming off as kind of…curt on this subject, but you did say it was a completely new experience for you. That you've never encountered a vamp before. Do they not have monsters back in Europe?' Sam questions and he's pleased to see that her iciness melts as she ponders her response.

Her arms fall to her sides. 'Honestly, now that I think about it, I haven't see any. Ghosts, yeah. Like I said, I've been possessed – twice. Not a fun experience. I've been all over Europe. Nothing resembles the strange there. Do you think monsters have been hunted to extinction over there?'

Dean shrugs, bored by this conversation and Sam's attempts at diplomacy. 'Who knows? Our focus is America, who cares what's going on across the pond.'

Sam grows nervous when the iciness returns, he elbows Dean to cool it – besides, she makes an excellent point. What about Europe? Who's taking care of that? Sounds as though he's got a bit of light reading to do at some point.

'Anyway, all we're saying is that we know this person means something to you, and we're, er, I'm sorry he's been turned. But we can finish this off. We live close by, we know there's others and we'll do right by your friend.'

Dean observes her puzzled frown and seeks her attention, smiling while running his thumb across his throat in mock action. 'Yeah. We'll make it fast. One swing and it'll be right off.'

She flings them a disgusted look. 'Charming.'

They both tense when she looks past their shoulders and widens her eyes. She brushes by them and curses. The man that had been lying on the ground is gone. Her eyes scan the building floor, they attempt to speak but she holds up her hand to quiet them down. They all pause and listen. Waiting for something. She hears something and bolts up the stairs to the dilapidated office and the boys chase after her, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Dean climbs a few when he begins to hear rummaging and quick movement above their heads.

The woman is flung out of the room suddenly and lands on her shoulder, must be the injured one because she cries out and rolls out of the way as a chair is tossed at her. They hear broken glass and she is up before they can blink. Two gun shots ring out. Dean charges up the stairs with Sam behind him and they peer into the room. Nothing or anyone else is in there expect the woman, her hand on her injured shoulder and the gun in the other.

There is a gaping hole where the window's glass panes used to be and they walk towards the busted window, the man visible as he flees from the building and into the forest the surrounds them. Dean throws his hands up and mumbles something as he stomps out of the room and loudly descends the stairs. Sam looks over his shoulder and then back to the woman who is holstering her gun rather carefully. She landed on her injured shoulder and it's become aggravated – bleeding steadily down her arm and collecting by her feet.

Not to mention he can feel the anger radiating off her. This wasn't supposed to happen. They clearly surprised each other, now they just have to politely wrangle this hunt out of her hands, convince her to give up the personal connection and let them handle this. So why does he get the feeling it isn't going to go like that at all?

The woman turns to leave however stops when Sam clears his throat. She looks over to him and he's taken back by how pale she looks. They should get her some stuff from the first aid kit in the Impala.

'We have some…uh things in the car for your shoulder. At least until you get back to wherever it is you're heading.' Sam offers and she smiles at him. A nice smile. She nods her head. And he silently thanks whoever it is up there that's gotten an agreement out of her.

Together they head for the door and she looks up to him. 'Sam, yeah?'

'Winchester. Sam Winchester.' He's a bit shocked when she pauses and offers her hand to him. Which he cautiously takes…just in case.

'My name's Rose Tyler.'

'Good to meet you. Have you been here long?' Sam questions and Rose eyes him. She defaults back into her get information but not give a lot of information mode. She wants to learn more about them, they're obviously trusting people. She trusted him, didn't she? She offered up her real name just like that. She believed that since they're seeking a common enemy right now, it'd be helpful to be truthful.

'I'm familiar with America, yes. I pop over quite a bit.' Rose pauses by a group of unkempt shrubs and pulls out a black duffle bag. She's about to sling it over her shoulder when Sam takes it from her. She frowns and he shrugs. Hm, he's quickly earning brownie points with her.

The other one…Rose's gaze travels to where the blond one with striking green eyes – hey she can appreciate that – is resting against a stunning beauty of a car. Late 60s model if she's not mistaken. She inwardly smiles. She's found another way in.

Sam catches Dean's less than impressed look and raised eyebrows at him carrying her bag. Least he could do. She is hurt. Sam sets her bag down by the trunk of the car and Dean reluctantly opens it, figuring now is as good a time as any to confirm some suspicions they may have about her. Regarding that disappearing act.

Rose tries not to appear stunned at the arsenal of weapons packed into the boot of this car. Not to mention the odd seals and markings. Is that a pentagram too? Who are these people? Her mind wanders to the author Heinrich Kramer whose publication of the _Malleus Maleficarum_ in 1487 did irrefutable damage to society. She wonders if perhaps these are descendants of Kramer. That they go around and seek out danger to right it. She'll have to be careful around them. He digs through a small white bag and procures a couple of packages of gauze and hands it over to her while carefully concealing the little bottle of holy water in his hand. She gives him a small smile and about to start opening the gauze when Dean clears his throat. Rose frowns.

'Can I ask you something?'

Rose keeps her guard up and doesn't know what to anticipate. 'I suppose so…'

The water hits her in the face before she blinks and she stands there in shock for a few seconds before she opens her eyes and glares at him. He seems genuinely disappointed but convinced of something anyway. Sam doesn't know what to say now, they had agreed that this was what needed to happen, but now that it has…he doesn't know…she might not be a demon, maybe a witch – and there could be good ones out there.

'All right, sorry about-…' Dean begins but is silenced when her fist extends and she jabs him right in the nose. The force behind her hit coupled with the fact that he hadn't expected that reaction sends him off balance slightly. He falls into the car which he uses to steady himself. There is a trickle of blood he can feel running down his chin and for a brief moment, he sees stars. He blinks a few times to look up at the woman who still has the holy water dripping off her face. He should have expected that.

'You might be sorry. But I'm not. What the hell did you just toss at me?' she demands and Dean wipes the blood off his face.

'Holy water.' He takes some of the gauze patches back from her and opens one, mopping up the blood from his face for a second time.

'Holy water? Just what were you hoping to ascertain from tossing holy water at me?' she demands, furious and Dean looks up to Sam for a little intervention. Some of that good old diplomacy for a change – that way, if she doesn't like his responses, she can hit Sam for a change.

'When we saw you fighting with that guy, you disappeared. In our line of work there aren't many beings who can pull of a vanishing act so flawlessly. Holy water would rule out the fact that you weren't a…' Sam pauses when he notices the furiousness in her eyes. What makes him think she's even gonna believe him? 'A…demon…'

'So you saw something you didn't understand and immediately thought ah, yes, demon.' Rose wonders and Sam looks at Dean nervously. Sounds logical in their minds, why wouldn't it? But to anyone else it does look rather suspicious.

'Look, we ask questions after.' Dean responds and side steps just in case she attempts another swing at him. He notices that her eyebrow arches – though she doesn't ask him after what. That's a look that tells him she knows, or at least understands.

Rose plants her hands on her hips. Her gaze drifts down the boot of the car, all those weapons, marked from evil. The guns, ammo – how American – there are pouches and satchels too. Knives, machetes and daggers. They're haggard. Worn, pitted and stained. She doesn't doubt that they're telling her the truth – they aren't here to hunt any wildlife. Truly they must be fighting the unseen. Things people can't explain away with rational. Given their calmness and collected attitude, they've been doing this for a long time. So maybe it is easier to simply shoot first and ask questions later. Perhaps that usually works out for them. Well it isn't going to while she's with them.

'Okay, I'm not sure how else I can say this to you. I am not a demon – which I believe you agree with. I am not a witch and I am not anything supernatural,' she decides not to add the fact that she harbours a goddess within her that occasionally pokes her head up to wipe the floor with evil, she's trying to make friends. 'I simply have a few tricks of my own.'

'So you can teleport?' Dean questions and Rose offers a coy smile in response.

'What do you do where you're from?' Sam again attempts a different angle. Hoping that maybe if they can get her to reveal just a little clue as to what she does, then he can research it when they get back to the bunker. Of course, what he doesn't know is that he's talking to a master deflector.

'What I do in the UK is of little consequence. Just know that you aren't the only ones looking out for the world's safety. We're on the same team.' Rose nearly smiles as they exchange confused looks between them. She shrugs off her jacket in the meantime and inspects the gash. She hopes there isn't any lingering glass in there.

'Are you…a spy?' Dean can't keep the amazement out of his voice, which causes Sam to look at him with a quizzical frown. They clearly don't meet many other people in the science realm. Their worlds must truly be separate. Which is good…she supposes. When magic and magnets work together is that a good thing…or a bad one?

'Do I look like one?' Rose questions without actually looking up from her task. She bites her lip as she brushes the debris from the gash. It'll have to be sterilised. She curses lightly.

'Well, kinda. I guess. I mean…Sam and I have been doing this a long time, so believe me when I say this, you fight incredibly well. Honestly.' Dean holds up his hand as Rose glances up to him. She smiles a bit and it takes him off guard. He offers a stupid grin in return.

'Thank you. But whatever's taken a hold of him. Has made him incredibly strong,' Rose relays and carefully slides her jacket back on. She can't wait to get that cream from Jupiter on there. 'So, what's our next step?'

Sam eyes her. 'What do you mean, 'our next step?"

'Well I'm sure it's fairly obvious, but I'm a bit of a control freak. However, I can also admit when I have no idea what I'm doing – which is also rare. So I'm gonna let you guys handle things while I learn.'

'Can you give us a sec? Thanks.' Dean doesn't wait for her response, instead he motions to Sam and they walk a couple of paces ahead so that they can defer in private. He's not sure how this is going to work.

'I know what you're thinking…' Sam begins and Dean waits for him to finish but the obvious look of impatience. Sam knows that Dean wants to get rid of her. She's a liability in his eyes.

'Do you? Cause the way I see it is that she's going to hold us back. We're not trainers, Sam, you know that. You either have it or you don't-…'

'Well she has _something_ ,' Sam mutters and Dean folds his arms. 'Look, all I'm saying is she did make a valid point – who's looking after Europe? Maybe if we show her how to kill things then that way if she runs into them back home, she'll know how to handle it.'

Sam can tell he's not entirely convinced. Having a novice around will only slow them down, especially one that appears to hate to kill things. She can act as righteous as she wants, to reverse the vampire curse on an individual is a lot harder than lobbing a head off. A lot more time consuming as well.

However, vamps aren't the only monsters out there. There's a whole plethora of them. And whether or not they've been hunted to extinction in Europe – it's anyone's guess – he'd rather have her prepared should she encounter anything like that. Her comment though…they're on the same team leads him to conclude that what she does involves something…some secret she's not sharing with them. Not that she's entitled to, maybe once this is done and a trust has been developed they can clear the air and level the playing field. Hopefully she's game for that.

'Sam, all I'm saying is that I don't trust her.' Dean walks towards the car and Sam sighs internally.

'You don't have to trust me. In fact, better you didn't. That way your guard is up constantly. I mean, I work with people I don't trust all the time.'

Dean looks around and spies her by the front of the Impala. He frowns and wonders how much of their conversation she's heard or if he'd just been talking too loud. He tries to maintain a cold façade, like she does, but it's hard when she flings him over a smile. Her hazel eyes draw him in and those little golden splashes ensure he stays there. He hates to admit it, but Sam is right. She's skilled. Perhaps not in hunting, but in combat not to mention he is smart enough to know that she's hiding more complex layers to her proficiencies and personality. All in good time. Her attributes would benefit them. Given what she's displayed so far, better her on their side than anyone else's.

So maybe if this little partnership does work – hey she did say it was okay not to trust her, and hell, they work with people they don't trust all the time – then maybe they can see more of her at some point. _He_ can see more of her at some point.

'This car is a beauty.'

She takes Dean off guard and Sam hides a smirk. She's good. She knows exactly what to say to Dean to make him forget his troubles. He loves talking about his car with someone who will admire and appreciate it like he will. She knows how to work him, that's for sure. It isn't as though Dean is overly complicated. Beer, women and cars. Probably hunting in that mix too, and once you have that combination, then that's all he cares about.

'Yeah, she is, isn't she?' Dean watches her run her hand over the hood of the Impala, lightly – it almost hovers.

'What year? A '67?'

Dean stares at her, rather surprised. 'Yeah…you uh, like cars?'

Again that flirty smile. 'I've seen a couple of stunners in my day. She's in great shape. Has it always been in the family?'

'Baby? Uh…yeah. Dad bought it, passed it down to me.' Dean replies and watches her lean against it while peering into the interior over her shoulder. She kneels down and rests her arms against the open windows and admires from inside. Dean mimics her actions and her head tilts to the side.

'Well she's beautiful. You've done a great job taking care of her,' she informs him seriously and his smile, his eyes light up – he's not used to be complimented in that way. She can tell so much about him from that little smile. The small idiosyncrasies that people do without realising it. She reaches across and holds her hand out. Dean leans forward and takes it. She's starting to like him. 'My name's Rose.'

'Dean Winchester.'

Rose straightens up and gets Sam in her line of vision. 'Sam and Dean Winchester, it's good to meet you. Now, why don't we get on with this little problem, yeah?' she turns to go but pauses when she notices they weren't moving. 'Oh, can I ask you something?'

They weren't entirely sure how she had managed to finagle her way into riding with them back to the bunker – her previous question lingering in his mind. As far as Dean had been concerned, they were dropping her off somewhere. Sam had managed to covertly sneak her bag into the back seat with him. Through carefully timed bursts, he had opened the zipper to the bag and underhandedly attempted to fish around for answers.

They had been riding in silence for a good twenty minutes, neither of them entirely sure what to say to each other, or what to talk about. The two of them can ride in silence and it not be awkward at all. But with Rose here…the dynamic has shifted. How could it not? Do you open with a joke? A philosophical question? What's her favourite sport? What does she do for fun? It isn't supposed to be twenty questions, okay so then what? Talk about work? Her work? He hasn't been forthcoming on that subject sadly. Talk about their work? Their little problem? The Darkness? They could ask if she's religious – and by the way, did you know that God has a sister and she's royally pissed? Oh, how'd it all start? Funny you should ask, we actually killed Death. That's a real good way to start a topic of conversation – besides, they won't be working together after this, at least as far as Sam's concerned. Dean…well Sam can't quite tell yet. He's not sure if the baser instincts will kick and he'll attempt to sleep with her. He saw the way Dean looked at her when she pulled her hood off. And of course, she's gorgeous. Dean likes pretty girls.

The silence is growing, and there is no resolution to overcome it. Sam observes Rose absently sticking her hand out the window as Dean rolls down the bare roads. Sam's attention falls back to her black bag. And he shifts in his seat, accidentally kicking the back of Dean's.

Dean grins at him through the rear-view mirror. 'How's not riding shotgun, Sammy? You haven't seen the back of the Impala since dad drove it.'

Rose turns over her shoulder and does a quick observation. 'I'm sorry. I should have asked and not assumed. I can't imagine it's comfortable…would you like to switch?'

Sam shakes his head. 'Rose, it's fine. Don't worry. Dean, shut up.'

Dean reaches down to the cassette player and pushes a tape in, having decided that if that silence appears again and for that length of time, at least the music will be playing. 'Hope you don't mind.'

Rose smiles and encourages him to go for it. She notices that Dean doesn't ask Sam if he does. 'Yeah, I'm fine.'

She also notices that he doesn't ask if she has a preference or not. Rose reaches across and notices a couple of cassettes scattered and collects them. They're all mixed and she holds one up. Dean had marked a couple of them with some of the featured bands. She wants to know if he's ever listened to any of them on vinyl? Dean scoffs. Vinyl. Hipster crap. Rose eyes him and Sam can't help but smile. Dean's old school and while Vinyl sounds like it should be right up his alley, all he's known is cassettes. Maybe because that's all their dad listened to. Dean, sadly, looked up to him as a kid.

Sam once tried to put some of the music he likes on his phone…that didn't go over well. He preferred the cassettes. Sam stopped trying.

Sam also observes the fact that Dean and Rose have dissolved into mindless chatter. Sam, covertly as he can, attempts to look through that black duffle bag on the floor. He takes note of what he does manage to bring into his line of view. He listens as his brother and Rose bond over some sort of topic that he's only been half paying attention to. So many different passports. Different colours. Different countries. He catches a Russian one and a Canadian one before he notices that they're waiting on him to answer.

'What?' He wonders and Dean frowns. However, just as he was about to chastise Sam for not listening, a new song comes alive on the speakers. Dean crinkles his nose.

 _Carry on my wayward son/ there'll be peace when you are done/ lay your weary head to rest/ don't you cry no more…_

'Ugh, hate that song.' Dean declares and mutes the sound. Rose stares at him wide eyed.

'But it's such a great song!'

'Nope, I've heard it too much. Out of the rotation.'

'A man will find peace when his journey is done. No more hurt and sorrow. Only peace,' Rose tells him firmly and Dean shakes his head. 'Don't disrespect Kansas.' She reaches to unmute the song. Sam can't help but add fuel to the fire.

'Hey, Dean, what's that saying you always tell me when I want to put on something different?'

Dean turns around and shakes his head. Rose is grinning.

'What? What, I want to know!' She declares and Dean grips the steering wheel tighter.

'Nothing. Sam's just kidding. I don't say anything.'

'Sure you do…something about the driver picking the music and shotgun…' Sam trails off with a crooked grin and Dean glaring daggers at him. Sam knew he was trying to impress Rose. 'Shuts their cakehole…?'

Rose begins to laugh. 'That sounds about right, yeah? Well excuse me for upsetting the balance,' she mutes the sound and Dean stares ahead, quietly livid. 'Carry on.'

Sam knows he's going to get retaliation from Dean at some point, but it's so satisfying to mar his chances with a girl. And the girl is great at playing along – not offended in the least.

Instead while Dean pouts, Sam and Rose discuss Jazz – her musical repertoire is quite vast. Dean sneaks a peek at Rose while she is turned on her side happily engaging Sam in some historical discussion. Great, she's a nerd too. Well she and Sam can go be nerds together. Doesn't mean he's delighted about it, he kinda wanted a shot first.

Just means he's gonna have to work harder at getting her attention. Maybe then he can find out a bit more about her. He devises a plan with or without Sam to get her cornered in the bunker and they can start throwing out questions for her to answer – about who she is and what she does. Sam's right, he doesn't get the witch bitch vibe from her at all. But then again, he isn't sure what else could be out there that fits her. She isn't a demon, and she doesn't have that angel awkwardness he's come to reluctantly accept from all angels – robots that they can be. Maybe she truly is just a human like them. Outwardly, perhaps. But there is more to this chick than meets the eye. And he wants to find out what.

Especially since the man that she was fighting with seemed to know her. And that connection intrigues him. He also believes her when she had claimed she didn't know what was going on or what had happened to that man, as given the last time she saw him, he appeared normal. So what? She's been tracking him? Mm, no something's not right. Dean looks in his rear-view mirror and grabs Sam's attention. Sam nods. They'll think of a plan. And by tomorrow morning they'll have all they need on her.

* * *

He wakes up to a familiar smell. Not one that's awoken him before, many times on different occasions in scummy motel rooms or the barren floor of an abandoned warehouse they've hunted in, fighting monsters. It's a smell deep in the recesses of his mind that unlocks cherished memories of a life and time that seem all but lost to time. It's almost hard to believe those memories are his own. But they were and he delves into them when he needs the most comfort. Alone. Always alone.

It isn't likely that she'd have known what the smell of pancakes does to him, hell even Sammy doesn't know. But back in his history, it reminds him of Saturday mornings. Of mom and dad in the kitchen. His beautiful mother at the stove, making pancakes with bacon - the smell mingling and filling the house with an inviting aroma - while his dad, not yet tainted by the hunting life, still warm and caring, not hard and cold, before the smile that touched his eyes ebbed away to be replaced by a hard and stony face grim look - would be at the kitchen table, holding his mug out for a refill when his mother would come by. She's take it to fill it up but then steal a sip for herself before handing it off once more. He'd smile - his dad did have a nice smile before life ruined it - while his mother would set her hand on his father's head, running it down his face where she'd let her hand rest and they'd stare into each other's eyes.

And he'd have been watching from the doorway, when he deemed it appropriate he'd amble in when they parted. His mother would bend down to kiss his cheek while his father would scoop him up into his arms and set him on his knee. They'd be recapping the sports section while his mother would put the finishing touches on breakfast, humming _Hey Jude_ while she moved from place to place, grabbing plates and forks and cups for juice. Fluffy pancakes with bacon. Perfect bacon. Perfect pancakes. Sometimes he wonders...what life could have been like if nothing bad had followed their family around as it did. If deals hadn't been made…if the supernatural…had just never come knocking on their Kansas door. How had it come to this? It was just supposed to be finding their father after a bad hunting trip…how'd they get here?

That's why he gets up, still asleep in the previous day's clothing as he shuffles by Sam's door before pressing an ear to his door. Silence. He must be asleep. Good. He wants to be the first in the kitchen for pancakes. Screw you, Sam. You snooze you lose. And he walks on by with a self-satisfied smirk, rubbing his hands together as he walks towards the cafeteria like kitchen. It certainly had that industrial, drabness to it. It constantly serves as a gentle reminder to him that while this place has come to be a safe haven for them, a place to rest their heads and to regroup, it's devoid of the emotional touches that make it home. The only thing he has that reminds him of home is Sam. That's the best he's got. It isn't something he'd trade for anything.

He pauses in the doorway, unsure if he should intrude on her. Maybe she's just making herself breakfast. She doesn't look as though she's dressed to receive company. Her hair is piled into a messy bun, the black shorts she's wearing are nearly obscured by the black baggy off the shoulder sweater she's tossed on. He remembers her comments when she asked where the nearest motel had been as she wasn't going to stay on the sidelines and let them do this hunt. She wanted to learn and to be of use. After all, that man that had died or had been turned was a former colleague.

 _So, the motel I'm staying at is a bit…dingy. Can I room with you two? You mentioned you live close by?_

 _Uh…_

She must have seen their hesitation, especially evident in the way he began his response to her. The way their eyes darted to one another. Sam inadvertently covered his mouth with his hand. She's intuitive. Because she had smiled and shrugged, obviously catching on that they were trying to say no to her in the politest of ways.

 _Okay, fine, forget rooming with you two. I won't girl all over your man cave, if that's what you're worried about. So, excuse me, I've got a motel to get back to so I can figure this out._

Then they had felt bad so they invited her along. It wasn't as though the bunker wasn't big enough. They gave her a room, pointed out to where the bathroom was and left her alone. True to form she was silent. They had burning questions of their own to ask, even as he dared Sam to find out more about her. She had left her black duffel bag in the backseat while they had been driving back to the bunker...and the only thing that Sam managed to find in it where a lot of clothes and several passports. One Russian, one British, one French and one Canadian. Before she looked over her shoulder and wondered if he was always the tall, strong silent type. Sam had laughed lightly, maybe a bit uneasily while she had frowned wondering if he was cross with her for riding shotgun. So he had to swoop in and just lie. Because they're so good at that. That's the key. Sound confident in your lying and the rest will fall into place. Sam's shy and nervous around new people.

He leans against the doorway and continues to study her. She looks a little tired and worn down but any evidence that she had been in a fight with a vamp had mysteriously vanished. Her shoulder had been repaired and all scraps and cuts erased. There goes that witch bitch theory again…

They hadn't had much time to discuss anything. They had mumbled outside her door, wanting to sit her down and wonder where she fit into all this. Properly. Sam was cautious. He thought she could be trusted. Sam only said he trusted her because of all their similarities and that she was hot. Not the case. Well, her accent is hot. And truthfully so is she. No. Back on track. She has an air about her. She's not dangerous, uh well, when she's not out being dangerous. Sam wanted reasoning. No one they've met has been able to do what she did back in that warehouse. He had smiled, like they met a ninja. Or a mercenary, a spy, Sam had replied evenly.

 _You guys know I can hear you, yeah?_

When had the shower turned off, was it even on? When did the door open? How long has she been standing there? He pointed to Sam, his idea after all. Sam gaped at him and began to stammer apologies, explanations and excuses.

He noticed that she had been dressed in running gear. He looked to Sam. That's his way in. They can go be health nuts together. He announced that he was gonna relax, crack open a beer and pray to god that the take out in the fridge was still decent enough for one more day. Rose had eyed them. He had thrown his hand into Sam's chest. He needed to salvage this moment. It would allow him to snoop through her things, so they could find out who she really was and who or what type of organization she belonged to.

She had disappeared in a flash of a lavender coloured shirt while Sam had sprinted back to his own room to change while he had followed her, and when he had got to nerve central, he turned around stunned. She hadn't been there waiting. Maybe she was waiting outside. But he hadn't thought so. She had gone. Alone. Lone wolf.

Sam had come rushing by him, asking whether or not she had left, but he hadn't waited for an answer, he ran up the steps and the door banged off the opposite wall. He had waited, listened and debated what to do. He did go to her room. He did open the door. He also had taken note of how pristine everything still was. He had ambled around, taking note of the black duffle bag just to end of the bed. Nothing else. He didn't go through it. He did have some moral compass. He just had to be patient and wait for Sam.

He listens to her hum some song he can't quite trace. Ah, she has the headphones in, no wonder she hasn't noticed him standing there. She absently twirls the whisk in her fingers as she cradles the bowl in her arm and whisks away. He's met his share of competent female hunters before…but what is it about her? Maybe it's the idea of her itself or maybe what she does. Which is still a huge question mark. What surprises him is how much he trusts her given the little information she's put forth.

Sam hadn't had much luck either. He said after she had gone that she somehow managed to flip the conversation onto him. However, that had been after she thought she was being tailed, he was that far behind apparently. He had lost her on the trail, until she appeared behind him. He said her stealth had made him uneasy. She was dangerous. Caution had to be exercised around her. And yet he said she was remarkably pleasant. She had wanted to know all about what they did in the most innocent of terms, he didn't know how she did it but she was able to extract detailed information from him.

Does this mean it's his turn to try? He watches her take a sip of coffee. She carefully peeks under the pancake while shaking her head. Not ready yet. Hopefully soon because that smell is making him hungrier than ever. He should give it a go. What has he got to lose? Sam's awkward around pretty girls, has to be it. He's got more experience, he can get the information required. Women react naturally to him. And his good looks. Yeah, he can do it.

'Why don't you come in here instead of lurking in the doorway?'

He pauses and looks over his shoulder. He looks up to see her with an anticipating look in her eyes and he points to himself. 'That at me?'

'I don't see anyone else behind you,' She replies and pulls the headphones from her ears, wrapping them around her phone. 'That's better.'

He uneasily takes a seat at the table and glances to her while she continues to check on the pancakes. 'How…uh, how long…how'd you know I was there?'

'When you daydream, you don't pay attention to your surroundings. Plus, you were clunking around out there. Did you sleep in that attire?'

'What? Oh. Yeah.' He also didn't want to admit that falling asleep with questionable Chinese food and booze has left a greasy mark on him. Yet he was still hungry.

Rose eyes him. 'I'm not one to judge. I'm the same.'

'Really?'

'Yes. And you know, if you lot had questions, all you had to do was ask. You didn't need to send your brother on a marathon run with me to get answers.' Rose tells him and Dean looks away from her. Damn she's intuitive. Something makes him smile.

'I didn't hear you guys come in. That mean that Sam managed to survive a marathon run?'

'Barely. I would have gone further but I truly was concerned he'd try to follow me, my pace, and honestly…he's too tall to drag back to your Hobbit hole.'

'You run a lot then? Good for you. Don't see the point, but hey, two each their own. Life's too short to worry about being healthy.'

'I do a lot of stuff.' Rose answers slyly and sets a coffee mug down. Dean looks up to her with a smirk. Her eyes flicker with mischief.

'I bet you do, sweetheart.'

Rose grins and sets the plate of pancakes down at the table. He hopes she can't see that he may be drooling. 'So, what does the supernatural want to know about the Sci Fi?'

He's already digging into the food she's just set in front of him before she even takes a seat across from him. She draws one leg up and wraps her arm around it, sipping from the coffee mug while he dumps a heaping amount of maple syrup onto the fluffy cakes. He also misses a crucial clue about what she may do.

'Damn. This is delicious.' He replies with a mouthful. Rose smiles.

'Thank you.'

'Anyway, what? Sorry. There was food in front of me.'

'I just wanted to know what you wanted to know of me,' Rose tells him and Dean swallows a lump of food awkwardly. He downs it with hot coffee. Damn. This coffee tastes better than usual. He eyes the mug. 'It's fresh. Your coffee grounds were stale. Don't you two normally shop?'

'Not until we're out of something,' Dean answers truthfully. Rose nods her head in amusement. He instantly catches a key word he missed earlier. 'We're really from two different worlds, aren't we? I mean Sci Fi…we're the same…do you…hunt – can't believe I'm gonna ask this, but – do you hunt aliens?'

'Yes and no. What we do is different, but fundamentally we're the same. We help people. We save people. We're their light in the dark. Although I will admit, from what I've heard, your dark is a bit more…devious than mine,' she pauses and looks away. She's hunted – in their eyes – aliens. But that's where the similarities end. She doesn't end lives. 'Do I hunt aliens? My work takes me all over the universes…'

Dean just smiles and shakes his head unable to believe what she's just admitted. 'We've saved the world.'

'We have,' Rose agrees and tilts her head. 'You multiple times, even if it's thankless. I can see it. I can see a lot of things about you.'

Dean slows his chewing, eyeing her carefully. 'Yeah? Like what? Enlighten me.'

She doesn't take offense to his cold tone. He doesn't want people to get close to him, especially not a stranger that he's known only about twenty-four hours. Rose leans forward. So does Dean. She gazes into his green eyes while he continues to chew. Dean watches her hazel eyes, bewitching with the light flecks of gold in them. What could a stranger possibly see from gazing into his eyes. He wants to see if she's right on target with her observations.

Rose presses her lips together. 'The weight of the world rests on your shoulders so you're afraid of failing. You've taken on the role of protector for people but also of Sam - you'd do anything to keep him safe even if it's being headstrong and not well thought out. But you're angry that, or at least you pretend you are. But you're not, not really. You care immensely. But it leaves you vulnerable. Which you don't want anyone to see. Except a select few. Like Sam.

'You believe yourself to be a soldier, a grunt - good for nothing else, but you're wrong. You've so much more potential that you refuse to acknowledge. I don't get why. What are you afraid of? That people won't accept you? Where does that stem from? I bet I can guess…cause I can tell…you carry so much love in your heart, give some to yourself for a change. You're worth it and you deserve it.'

Dean stares at her. Her eyes shine brightly, like diamonds. He looks away, down to the food, to the ceiling and over her shoulder. Anything to get that heartfelt gaze out of his head. He doesn't know what to say to that…so he gets defensive. Because that's all he knows. No one is allowed to get close to him like that.

'Yeah well…let's get something right, sweetheart…you don't get to pretend to know me. Okay, cause you don't. You know nothing about me to make those judgement calls. You don't just get to come in here and Dr Phil all over me. You have no right. You and I, we're not the same. Got that? So whatever you think you know, it's wrong.'

Rose takes a sip from her coffee and sets it down. She doesn't get why he's upped the tension in the room. She obviously nailed something on the head. Why else would he get so…uppity? Again, she takes nothing personal to his sudden outburst. He's still glaring defiantly at her.

'You're right. I don't know you. So why don't you tell me where I'm wrong?' Rose challenges and Dean blinks, obviously not prepared for her response in that sense. If he was expecting an apology, no. She doesn't apologise unless she's certain she's wrong. And in this case, she doesn't believe she is. Should she be, well, here's another chance to learn.

'What part?' Dean wonders, although Rose notes that his sudden outburst has quelled significantly in the thirty seconds after she's challenged him

'All of it. Tell me where I'm wrong.'

'Why can't you just accept what I've said and apologise?' Dean wonders and Rose smirks at him from over the rim of the cup. He still has the fork clasped tightly in his fist.

'Because I know I'm right. And if I'm wrong tell me.' She leans forward and Dean mimics her actions. They're nearly nose to nose.

'You're a know it all.' He states, Rose isn't sure if she should take it at a compliment or not. There's very little emotion in his voice. His face is flat, she arches her eyebrow.

'Not the worst I've been called.'

'I bet it isn't, sweetheart.'

Rose smiles at him and gets up from the table. She walks by him and ruffles his hair on the way by, allowing her hand to run down the side of his face and she cups his chin the lower she gets. She tilts her head and steels her look. They hold one another's gaze, the tension dying. He becomes lost in those eyes. He nearly grips her hand. She lowers her face into his.

'Would you rather I go first?' She whispers. He swallows. Are they flirting, was that it? How does he know? He's an expert, why's she making him so…uncomfortable?

'I uh, um…'

'Ask me question if you want. But then you get to tell me if I'm right or wrong.' Rose tells him when she sits back down again. She tops up his coffee and Dean watches her. What does he want to know? Why did every question he had been holding on to suddenly evaporate? So he watches her a little bit longer. She arches her eyebrow at him.

'I um, so what is it you do exactly?'

'I'm self-employed. Like you.'

'Doing…?'

'Whatever my employment states - within reason. I'm not a mercenary by any means, if that's what you're thinking. I prevent disasters I suppose. I take things from people who don't know what power they've uncovered. And I liaise with people…from all over.'

'That's vague. Give me more to go on.'

'Okay, let me try it this way, yeah? Something foreign from another world drops out of the sky and into a field. It's picked up by someone who's curious about it but that doesn't truly know what it is. Different organisations get wind of what's happened. They'll contact me to get it and sort out whether it's good or bad and what to do with it. Sometimes I get contacted from people in different solar systems to help. Sometimes I deal with objects, sometimes it's people, sometimes hardware or the likes. It varies. But I'm here to help.' Rose explains and Dean is still watching her. He trusts her that much more. A little bit. She's on their team. She's one of the good guys.

'So, like the X-Files.'

'I don't deny that there's intelligent life beyond our solar system, though. I've seen it, it's envious. But yes, Earth is not at a point that it's ready to handle the knowledge of knowing what's beyond. Not yet.' Rose explains. Dean watches her carefully.

'So you cover it up.'

'No, not me. Governments, agencies, departments - any country's governing body. There are organisations that work independently from everyone. An unbiased view and voice on how to act should anything accidentally end up in our hands. We want to secure it before it falls into Black Market hands.' Rose drinks deeply from her coffee, regarding Dean's expression. He certainly wears every emotion on his face. He's processing her statement like he's sucking on a sour candy.

'I knew conspiracies were real,' he replies and shrugs when Rose arches her eyebrow with a crooked smirk. 'You're contract? Why be that?'

'Independent of the independent. A true unbiased body. Money, kickbacks...incentives if you will. People always have a price,' Rose explains and Dean nods his head in hushed agreement. 'If I don't believe what they're going to do is in everyone's best interest, then I will seek out the best alternative solution for everyone. Whether or not they're angry with me. They'll come back, they always do.'

'Yeah, they do. It's power.'

'It's prestige.'

There's a pause. Dean watches her inspecting her nails absently. 'So you've really…been to other, times? Like I mean, eras. And, other planets?'

Rose smiles at him. 'Sure. Multiple times. When those that I'll be working with require my assistance, they use my mobile and I set up a meeting. Here or there. Wherever _there_ may be.'

Dean drinks slowly from his coffee, reaching to pour more. 'That sounds…incredible.'

'It can be.'

'Dangerous even.'

'Oh yes.'

'So…you like danger?' Dean questions and feels himself pull back slightly as she leans in. He's never pulled back from a woman before. What gives?

'Doesn't everyone?'

'Not sane people. We're crazy…'

'Someone has to be,' Rose counters and see Dean smile crookedly at her. 'So do you and your brother huddle around your police radio until something pops up?'

'What - no,' Dean replies and Rose watches him over the rim of her coffee cup. 'Sometimes cases fall into our paths, other times we investigate odd newspaper headlines…mostly we are investigating a bigger issue. These smaller cases, well, they just come up…'

'Mm sounds overwhelming. What's the bigger issue, then?' Rose wonders and physically watches Dean straighten up. His look hardens. Well, she just touched a nerve.

'Don't worry about it.'

'Seems to me if you're telling me not to worry about it, it's a big deal. So, what are we up against?'

"We?' There's no 'we.' You don't know half of what we do, no offence.' Dean adds, when he sees Rose's look become unimpressed.

'I'm game to learn.'

'No, sorry sweetheart, but we've got people better versed to tackle these issues. The less you know about what we do, the better. You'll be safer.' Dean maintains, mostly because he doesn't want to see another good person become lost in the life of Hunting. Look what it's done to him, to Sam. Their family, blood or not. This life destroys. It takes, it wants constantly. Once you're in the only way out is on a funeral pyre.

'Safer?' Rose repeats and leans forward. 'I just saw a man I worked with for years fall victim to something supernatural and you just want me to forget it. Forget I saw it, forget I know anything?'

'Yeah. Pretty much.'

'No, not gonna happen,' Rose folds her arms and Dean sets the coffee mug down noisily. It splashes some coffee onto the table. Rose eyes him. 'You should let people help share the burden. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.'

Dean looks away. She has such an intense gaze about her. 'The less people get involved in this life, the better. It's dangerous. It's not just monsters, you know. There's-…'

'Demons, angels, knights of hell, ghosts, Werewolves, witches, vampires - I know. Your brother told me. Hell, I know I'm not even covering the vast majority of what's out there nor what you two have faced.' Rose answers and Dean nods his head.

'Yeah, and do you know how to kill any of them?' Dean questions seriously and Rose is silent. 'That's what I thought.'

'How much of the lore is accurate?'

'What?'

'How much of the lore is useful?' Rose repeats and Dean frowns, lost in her question. 'I mean like werewolves for example. Can silver hurt them?'

'Yes. But it's more complicated than that.'

'If it were easy I don't think you'd be doing what you do.' Rose replies and Dean sits back to study her.

'It takes years to get good. And you gotta think about it because once you're in…there's no leaving. Nine times out of ten…no one comes out alive. In this life…you don't get to retire to Florida.'

'I'm sure it does. And granted, I gathered that from the way this life weighs on you. I can tell, you were born into this. Most young kids were being reassured that there was nothing to be scared of in the dark. But there you were, fighting off what lived in there.' Rose rests her hand against her head. Dean looks down to his plate, the contents nearly gone. It's nice to be appreciated he supposes.

'So, can I summarize you?' Dean questions and Rose shrugs innocently with a smile. 'You travel in time and space to help out others in need. That includes planets, governments, countries…the likes?'

'More or less.'

'…awesome…'

Rose leans forward again and Dean awkwardly swallows the coffee, burning the back of his throat. 'Maybe if you're real good I'll take you somewhere one day.'

'Where?' Dean can't believe he's been holding his breath or the fact that his question came out in a whisper. Again she raises her shoulders to her ears.

'Wherever you want,' she pauses and snaps her fingers. 'You love classic rock, yeah? Ever heard of a little music festival called Woodstock?'

Dean's mouth drops. ' _The_ Woodstock?'

'Is there another?'

'You can go there? To 1969?'

'Sure. So behave, maybe I'll take you. Or maybe the Isle of Wright festival – sometimes Woodstock can be a bit over played.'

'Anywhere you wanna go, you can?'

'Of course – within reason.'

Dean leans back and finishes his coffee in another swig. 'Why can't we go now?'

Rose rises from her seat and heads towards the coffee maker and takes the warm pot from the burner. She pours it into his mug and smirks at him. 'Easy tiger, a girl never reveals her tricks on the first date. Buy me a couple drinks first _then_ maybe…'

She turns around to put the coffee pot back on the burner. Dean watches her for a few seconds before he smiles into his mug, surprisingly accepting of her words. He was under the impression that it took powerful spells to time travel, look at Abaddon. After all, magic is powerful and yet antiquated. She's obviously got something on her that makes time travel less…cumbersome, less ritualistic.

He instantly wants to know more. He wants her to show him her world. Travelling to different planets and time eras. Earth's own and beyond. She seriously has one awesome job. Though he is certain it isn't without dangers. Perhaps those are stories for another time. She's right. They don't know her. And she doesn't know them…though Dean feels as though she's someone that he could confide in…given a chance that they spend more time together.

He hasn't had this feeling about a woman in a long time. He doesn't know what to describe it as, other than a spark. Be it curiosity or what…he wants to put in an effort to get to know her. It's almost the same feeling he had when he met Lisa for the first time. Any woman after her was nothing to him – cruel as that might sound it was just a passing fling. A brief night of fun. And in the morning when the light woke him up, it was time to face reality. Whatever it was.

So Dean continues to study her. To memorize her. To commit to memory what she looks like, her voice and smile. And those hypnotizing hazel eyes.

The only reason he's going to admit the next thing is because Sam isn't around. But she's been rather fun to have around. A nice change of pace and distraction from the impending doom they're trying to get the jump on – that's looking bleaker and bleaker each day. Especially since the pull from Amara seems to be getting stronger. It's getting harder to ignore and it's getting more difficult to pretend like everything's fine with him. It isn't. He dares not admit it to Sam, and Cas won't understand. So that's why it's been internalized, like everything he carries with him, festering down there.

When she sits with him again he lifts his gaze to see her blinking from his apparent lack of awareness. She smiles at him. And for a moment…just for a moment…they're the only two people in the world to him.

* * *

Muffled music pries him away from the comforts of sleep. When he opens his eyes he's slightly disorientated as to what had happened. Slowly the memories fall into place from the previous day. He wants to check the time but the mere thought of moving even an inch makes his muscles tense and put up a fight. He likes to consider himself a fit and active person. Going for a run? No problem, running's great! He should do it more often…till he took a run with a Brit. He might never do it again.

She was small and she was nimble and he struggled to keep up with her pace. Him! He could step over her, he was that much taller than she. They ran a marathon and then some. She apologized at the twenty-eight-kilometer mark – what's that in miles? Who cares, he can't think. But it was then she announced she was hungry and they should turn back. Uh, yeah, please? He was dying of thirst. She was hungry? He had wanted to crawl the last five miles. What's that in kilo-…never mind. Doesn't matter.

While she was stretching, he laid down on the grass and focused on breathing, trying to make sure he wouldn't forget. She had appeared above him and smiled, asked if he was okay and then offered her hand to him. He took it and she lowered herself and pulled. He internalized a groan. She had encouraged him to stretch, it'd help. She had seriously looked as fresh as a daisy. Granted her face had been tinged red and there was a good layer of sweat on her, but she didn't look like she was internally and figuratively dying. While he was doubled over, hands on his knees sucking in air, she was questioning what he liked to eat, she'd make it for him as a thanks for keeping her company and for their little chat about life and things. Yeah, he had wanted to add: thanks for not leaving me for dead on the side of the road.

He had walked awkwardly to the door and pulled it open, she had smiled and walked in and down the stairs without trouble. He had paused at the landing and looked down the stairs which had appeared to descend forever. It had taken him much longer to get down that flight of stairs than it should have. The moment his foot hit the first stair every muscle in his legs had seized and protested the cruel and unusual punishment. And the death grip he had given the railing as he walked down.

He must have zoned out at some point because he had recalled seeing her walking down the halls to her room, furiously texting away again before he had reached his own room, thrown open the door and collapsed on the bed. In fact, he believes he slept, because when he awoke once more he could hear the sound of silence. Granted, it was a big place but after having been in the bunker for so long – one grew accustomed to things, noises and creaks. Not hearing anything told him the rest of the inhabitants were asleep, maybe.

A hot shower had sated him before he crawled back into bed, utterly exhausted and had fallen asleep instantly. Now, though, he wonders if he ought to have taken something to keep the dull aches at bay – everything is tight. _Make sure you stretch – it'll help_. Her voice rings in her mind. He had to tell Dean disappointedly that he hadn't managed to get anything worth note out of her. Just that she lived in London but often travels and speaks three languages. So if Dean had met her early this morning he hopes that he'd have ample opportunity to corner her and force some answers out of her.

Despite the aches and pains growing in frequency and strength he sits up and half-heartedly stretches, mostly because at this point, everything's too tight to work out at this moment. He's ravenous. Inhaling deeply, he's certain he smells something sweet wafting from the kitchen. Breakfast? Unlikely that Dean cooked. So, Rose? She did say that she wanted to thank him with a meal – since he skipped the first one, maybe she's attempting to make up for it.

It's difficult to walk, hip flexors protest but he checks in the little mirror in the room that he doesn't look like a horrid mess before opening the door and peering into the halls. Definitely music somewhere…

He isn't sure if he wants to admit this to Dean or not, but having someone new in the bunker is…kinda fun. It isn't often that people that know – of those who are left – stay for a long period of time. Not that Rose will either, but the fresh face and altered pace are rather nice. Even if they did think she was a demon…jury's still out on the witch persona. He supposes that he could always call Rowena and inquire if she's ever heard of someone like Rose in any of the covens. He does have a sneaking suspicion that they'll be seeing more of her. At least if Dean has anything to say about it. He remembers that look on Dean's face when she had pulled the hood down from her jacket and there was a crown of golden locks. Not to mention when she addressed them before they left. Dean had glanced towards him with an expression of whoa…

He likes Rose, he does, he's glad she's one of the good ones but what about her ambiguity? If he had tried harder yesterday he might have been able to ascertain something, but she had this incredible ability to answer questions without answering anything at all. She talks but it's not really about anything, and she has this wicked ability to flip conversations around on the person she's speaking to and the next thing he knows he's freely answering all her inquires like it's nothing. She's just good at drawing information out people.

The closer he gets to the kitchen – surprised by the length of time it's taking – the louder the music is getting. Probably Dean's subtle way of sending a signal to wake him up without banging down the door or barging in. Smells good too – coffee and…bacon?

He rounds the corner and frowns a bit from the surprise at what he sees. Classic rock on, of course while Dean dries dishes that Rose has cleaned to be put away. Well…they bonded fast. Rose notices him first and smiles, waving him over. Yeah, she doesn't look like she's hurting from that run.

'Sam! Morning!'

Dean pauses and looks over, grinning. 'Hey sleeping beauty!'

Sam shoots him a look to shut up while Rose mutes the music from her phone and carefully opens up the oven. She takes a couple of plates out and sets them on the table in front of him. Pancakes and bacon? She turns around and takes a mug with a pot of coffee and sets it down. She smiles warmly at him while she pours it.

'Told you I'd thank you – least I could do.'

'Man, the coffee, unreal. Who'd have thought fresh coffee grounds make a difference.'

Sam almost feels a little awkward about eating alone, however they don't seem to mind it. 'You guys have…eaten?'

'Yup, so hurry up,' Dean takes a seat at the table with Rose while Sam takes a cautious sip from the mug. Wow…great coffee. 'Oh, and the pancakes, unreal.'

Sam liberally soaks the pancakes in maple syrup – taking note that it's the real stuff, and takes a bite. They're light and airy but satisfying. 'These are great Rose, thanks.'

She shrugs innocently but there's a small smile on her lips. 'I honestly don't mind, I'm glad you like them. And thanks for letting me crash here for the night.'

'I'll pay you to stay if you make breakfast like this every morning, please. I'll even clean up.' Dean adds the last part hoping to entice her. Sam merely shakes his head.

'Dean…' Sam warns and he looks over to him with a frown.

'What? I'm obviously kidding,' he pauses and turns back to Rose. 'Mostly.'

'Guess we'll have to settle back to normal after this.' Sam replies and Dean and Rose both frown at each other before turning their gaze towards Sam. He swallows a mouthful of coffee and stares at them.

'Sorry, but I was hoping we could get together again. Vampires not included.' Rose responds and Sam notices that Dean's already shaking his head. He wouldn't mind, he supposes. Her company is great.

'Like the next time you're in the country?' Sam wonders and she nods while shrugging at the same time. Dean feels a small smile break out onto his face. Sam misses it.

'Yeah, something like that. We could meet at pub and grab a couple of drinks.' Rose suggests and Dean points to Sam.

'That's a great idea – you know it is.'

'Anything that involves drinking is a good idea to you.'

Dean doesn't disagree. 'I'm a simple man.'

Sam rolls his eyes and dumps another helping of syrup onto the pancakes. He's trying to eat normally and not shovel the entire thing into his mouth due to his hunger. He almost wants to ask if there's more but realized that she had put four good sized pancakes onto his plate. He glances around to see if there could potentially be more and Rose seemingly reads his mind because she rises from the table and once again heads to the oven, pulling out one more plate with an extra three pancakes on it. She sets it down and can see Dean's shit eating grin on his face. Rather than give him the satisfaction of looking at him, he just presses onwards.

'What? I ran yesterday. It was a good distance. And now I'm hungry. Problem?' Sam wonders and Dean shakes his head, stupid grin still there.

'All for the sake of being healthy,' Dean gazes over to Rose who hides her smirk with a yawn. Sam throws him a dirty look. Healthy? Right, that's what it was. Not fishing for information. Okay. 'Hurry up and finish. We got some vamps to hunt.'

'Did you think of a plan?' Sam questions between chews and Dean nods his head.

'Yeah. The same plan as all the others. Go in and kick ass. It's a couple of vamps. What's the worst that could happen?'

Rose notices that Sam's watching her and she arches her eyebrow. 'Something to share, Sam?'

Damn, he hadn't realized he'd been caught. 'I assume you're gonna be there?'

'You've assumed correctly.'

'And you're okay with that?' Sam is staring straight at Dean who shrugs. He and Rose have one another in their sights. He wonders what's exactly happened between the two of them that they suddenly have this comradery between them. Dean's opinions have obviously changed.

A realization hits him. Did they already sleep together and _that's_ why they're suddenly getting along? No…no, he doesn't think so. They don't give off that vibe. He agrees there's an attraction there but nothing's been acted out. At least not yet.

'The more help the better, I always say.' Dean reaches forward and steals Sam's mug to have another sip of the coffee. Sam snatches the mug back and glares at Dean.

'You don't always say that. And even if the help is green?'

'You're lucky I don't offend easily.' Rose grins and Sam feels the heat creep into his cheeks from her flirty smile.

'Green in some areas – kicking ass isn't one of them. Just have to be okay with wielding a machete.' Dean addresses the last part of his sentence to Rose. Rose instantly remembers how they go about killing the vampires. They had made it quite clear.

'Even though they're monsters to you, they're still a life to me. And I don't take lives.' Rose admits softly and Sam turns to Dean with an _I told you so_ glare. It's just the discomfort of lobbing a head off. She'll get over it. She'll have to. The vamps sure won't thank her for keeping them alive. They'll reward her by making her one of them.

'You might change your mind when you get into things and realize that the one thing keeping you alive is that machete in your hands,' Dean responds and Rose shakes her head. 'Hurry up, Sam. I wanna get this over with. Before they high tail it out of here.'

'Don't rush me,' Sam informs him between bites. 'You got eat your food in peace, I want to do the same.'

Rose nods her head in agreement. 'Sam's right. We can talk about the plan while we're driving back to Jewel. Let's just…forget about it. You seem sure it'll be an easy victory, so why not talk about something else. Save the victory speeches for later.'

Dean reluctantly agrees and they change the subject. They ask her a couple more questions about life in London, and attempt to finagle a bit more information out of her in terms of the how and why she's even in a life like hers. She keeps the answers minimal. Not wanting to reveal the Doctor's part in all this – she's protective of him, for reasons unknown even to her. Though she does imagine that should introductions ever need to happen, everyone would get along quite well.

The longer they wait to get moving the more, for some reason, alarm bells keep going off in her head. It tells her to make sure she's wearing the manipulator. To make sure she's got enough ammo – which she doesn't, and to ensure that everyone's covered as they suddenly get a move on. Why the abrupt shift in mentality, she can't pinpoint it. Maybe it's nerves – she's never been involved with the monster side of things before. Sam and Dean are both more than qualified to handle this. She'll follow their lead. Dean's confident enough. Nothing's going to go wrong. It's just a routine nest that needs to be taken care of.

So, when she's in the back of the Impala, shooting texts to Jack about the endeavour, she's chalking the sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach to nerves. That's all it is – fear of the unknown and what to expect. Routine or not.

* * *

'It's okay, I'm here…' she grits her teeth against her own pain and presses harder on the gaping holes. Her voice quivers so she attempts to steady it. Her own vision hasn't recovered from the toss into the wall. Her hands are slick with blood. Some hers, some his and some…from the five bodies that lie headless around them, the sixth is still being battled. 'I'm not going to leave you. Everything's okay. Dean!'

She whips her head around too quickly and the spots appear on her vision, her stomach flips and she's nearly sick. She thinks she's losing too much of her own blood as well, but that doesn't matter…

His hand slides into hers tightly and he offers her a pained smile. He's getting so grey so fast. 'Yeah. Everything's fine. I'm okay, you're okay, Dean's okay…we're okay. You're not going to lose me.'

Rose brushes the matted hair out of his eyes while shaky hands of her own. It's pouring through her fingers now. Just like the light from his eyes. Ebbing away with each ticking second. 'That's right. Hear my heart beat? Focus on that…'

She rests her cheek on the top of his head and glances up as Dean slides across the concert floor. The gun…it's all the way by his feet. There's no way she'll be able to manipulate herself to grab it and still keep pressure on the bullet holes. She can't help him…she's stuck slowing down the inevitable. Dean takes another hit and she squeezes her eyes shut.

'That…didn't go like planned…did it?'

'Samuel, shut up. Conserve your air. And don't even pretend to lie to me about having a plan. You didn't. And now…' Rose directs her gaze upward and rubs the tears away with her hand, smearing blood over her face. 'Those men were SAS, Rangers…connections that the originals had and called in – turned them and here we are. Army prowess and vampire strength…'

She had seen the tattoo _Ranger_ on a couple of arms of the men. Few even had _Sua Sponte_ there as well. A dull thud calls Rose's attention to Dean as is knocked to the floor. She needs to help. She can't let him face this alone, for god sake he can't see out of right eye.

'Yeah…they weren't…lumbering brutes they typically…are…' Sam breathes awkwardly and Rose bites the corner of her lip as she observes Dean roll out of the way of a kick.

'I said shut up Jolly Green,' Rose shoots him a look for laughing. She takes his hand out of hers and puts it on the two bullet holes in his abdomen. 'I've got to go help. Keep pressure on them and-…'

'Yeah, I know the drill…not my first time getting shot, or…you know…dying.'

Rose glares at him and uneasily gets to her feet. Pain is tearing through the back of her left shoulder where she'd been shot. She lets her arm dangle awkwardly knowing she can't use it. She carefully scoops up a discarded machete and stalks towards the final vampire who has just knocked Dean down and delivered a swift kick to his ribs. She's already killed Russ by lobbing off his head…what's one more. Though her right hand shakes…she wasn't used to that. Beheading someone, human or not.

Dean begins to crawl away from this dick, who's gloating over him. He groans as another kick flips him onto his back and he lies there sucking in the air, though every time his lungs expand, his ribs ache and pain shoots out over him. This wasn't supposed to go down like this. They were supposed to go in and kick ass, that's what they do. Instead they were fighting military ops. And they are already powerful enough – when you add the fact that they have the add bonus of the vampire strength it made their hits sting more, their prowess dangerous…and now…what a mess…deep inside he knows this isn't going to have a good outcome. And he's prepared to do whatever it takes to make it right. He's done that before. And he won't hesitate to do it again.

The man stands over him and shakes his head.

'You know, I was planning on turning each and every one of you. However, given the fact that you've decimated my little nest, I think a little retribution is required. So I'm going to beat you into a pulp, and then I'm gonna make you watch while I rip Blondie's throat out. As for your brother…well, I won't have to worry about him. Andy did a great job-…'

Dean widens his eyes as the man didn't get the full part of his threat out from his mouth because his head abruptly drops into his lap. His body remains ridged for a moment longer before it topples over and lies there, every so often it quivers. A battered Rose stands in front of him. Sweat and blood meld together on her face, the cut on her cheek has dripped down her chest and her shirt is soaked with blood from the bullet hole in her shoulder. She drops the machete and it clatters to the ground. Dean sits up on his elbows and Rose bends down slightly and offers her hand. Dean takes it and she attempts to haul him up but her legs give out and they tumble to the ground.

Rose rolls off of him and apologises. She sits up and Dean gets to his feet slowly. He crouches down and puts his hand out in front of him to steady himself as he puts Rose's arm over his shoulder and pushes through his heels back to a standing position. She grips onto his waist and her head lolls into his shoulder before she snaps herself back to reality. She gives Dean a weak thumbs up and together they hobble back to Sam. Dean winces every step he takes. His eye is swollen and it throbs in the back of his head. Those were not ordinary vamps, they had a military strength and coordination he'd never seen prior to this day, they defaulted back to their basic training – they were lethal without the vampire side aiding them. They went in hoping for the best, instead they got obliterated. It isn't often they barely scrape out a win like that…but those vamps had mobilized so quickly, picking up three more recruits in a day and a half. It had devolved into fists, like a UFC match. And they were outnumbered. When the guns got involved…that's when things went from bad to worse for them. They had quickly been relieved of their machetes. Her pal had pinned her against the wall while he took her gun with the odd ammo and discharged it into the wall. No one was going to fall victim to her magic bullets.

Rose had been thrown into wall, her head collided with the concrete. She struggled to get up but managed to fight off her attacker for a couple of minutes while on the ground before a kick to the ribs sent her flying in the other direction. He walked towards her, scooped up a discarded gun and as she had tried to get away, he shot her in the back of the shoulder before Sam tackled him and they both fell. Dean hadn't been able to get her shout of pain out of his mind.

He knew who was on the receiving end of those next bullets even after the gun fire echoed around them. The flashes drew his attention to Sam who doubled over, hand on his stomach to stem the bleeding. He had seen Rose as she flung herself at the man, she pummeled him with everything she had before the man she knew – the one she had been fighting when they first met – grabbed her from behind. All he could see was red. The one he had been fighting became an easy target. And his head had come off in a clean shot. There was only five left. Rose had been in a choke hold with her pal as he spoke rapid French to her. Her eyes had widened. She had mumbled something in return but of course, Dean hadn't heard it. All he had seen was Rose flinging her leg up over her shoulder and her pal stumbled back, she had gone on attacking him while he had put up a meager defense. She had charged him once more and as she had driven her knee into his stomach he had retreated far enough for her to grab a machete that had been discarded and marched towards him. Her pal had thrown his arm to stop her, but she hadn't cared and she swung. The head dropped. One clean sweep. He had wanted to commend her efforts. He was still glad she was on their side. Dean had been positive it was only because of the adrenaline that she had done that. Four left. She had rushed to Sam. He was glad she was there to take care of him the best that she could. He had been able to focus on those other vamps. He hadn't seen her jump back into the fray until another vamp stumbled his way and he had taken his head in a clean swing. They would pick off these sons of bitches. But she had turned her attention back to Sam. And he had silently thanked her for doing that.

Dean keeps a firm grip around her waist, his heart drumming in his ears and he can hear her laboured breaths, choppy and broken. He looks behind him to see the aggravated hole in her shoulder. And he wants to be concerned for her however one look at Sam's pearly grey face and nothing else enters his mind.

Tunnel vision, he begins to walk quicker not caring if Rose is falling behind – he leaves her behind, he almost runs. Before they get any closer, Rose can already tell the worst has happened. He's too pale, slumped over and his chest is no longer rising and falling. She pauses in her steps and allows Dean the space he requires as he comes to a stop in front of Sam.

Her heart breaks for Dean as he attempts to rouse Sam by lightly hitting him in the face, repeatedly calling his name. First desperately shouting and then almost pleadingly. His voice cracks as he begs for Sam to wake up. Even before she knows what Dean will do she's already made up her mind about what _she_ will do. She has to. She knows that they're all one another has and that for some reason…they can't move on without the other one.

She carefully puts one foot in front of the other and ignores the pain as it begins to multiply. She stops behind Dean – who is still crouched in front of Sam – and puts her hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes. He doesn't look at her. There is a heavy silence that hangs in front of them. She bites the corner of her lip and winces when she realizes that there is a cut there. Though he does take her off guard when he puts his hand over her for a fraction of a second. He removes it before she can blink.

Rose continues to observe Dean stare blankly at Sam's lifeless body. She closes her eyes when they begin to mist and swallows an awkward lump. She can clearly that Dean continues to struggle to comprehend where he goes from here – it so evident in his posture and how he moves his right hand from Sam's shoulder to the side of his arm and face. And yet…deep within her, she can't seem to shake the feeling that Dean's about to do something monumentally stupid. She can practically see his face drumming up ideas, the gears turning quickly. An act that she'd do if she were in his shoes.

He slowly gets to his feet and Rose tilts her head.

'Dean? You okay?'

Silence. Rose wants to go embrace him figuring that he needs it and yet she remains frozen where she is. He needs the space, though she doesn't want to give him too much.

'You know…it wasn't supposed to be like this.'

'I'm so sorry, Dean. I am.' She doesn't know what else to say. Sorry isn't even enough or a start to understand what he's going through. She's lost people before. She's lost friends, co-workers…she's lost lovers too. And that is a sting that is carried around forever. She's never lost family before – she was there for her dad but in a sense, it was different. Given that they are all they have…it's a wound that will bleed unseen for a long time. Which is why she's gotta do what she needs to…she just needs time to explain and hope that he will listen to her.

'Yeah…me too…'

Rose observes him rubbing his thumb and index finger together. He's about to do something. 'Then what are you thinking? I can see it. And it isn't good. Keep a level head. Now is not the time to be impulsive.'

'I'm going to make a call.'

'A call. A call with whom?'

'Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter. You can go. It's fine. I don't need your help.' He states dismissively. A wave of his hand is his attempt to make her go away. She frowns. He's already got the mobile to his ear. When someone on the other end doesn't pick up, he curses and tries again.

'Dean…' Rose attempts but when he gets the same result after the third attempt she inhales sharply.

'God damn it! What?! Why are you still here?'

'You may not want my help, but you're getting it. A call made in desperation is a bad call.'

'Well my plan A isn't working, go figure, so I'm defaulting to plan B.'

'Absolutely not! Those are usually more desperate than plan A!'

'Listen, Rose, I get it, okay, you don't know this world and you don't get the consequences…'

'Whether or not I understand anything isn't your concern. I still know calls and deals made in desperation have insurmountable consequences. I have another way, if you just -…'

'There is no other way, Rose.' Dean interrupts bitterly and she crosses her arms.

'I want Sam back too, but this is madness! You know it is. If you would just let me say what I need to, I'll explain every-…'

'I was supposed to keep him safe! I had one job my whole life and I constantly screw it up!' Dean finally shouts and closes her eyes in heartbreak. It's terrible he thinks that.

'You are not your brother's keeper, Dean!'

'You don't know anything about us, you got that?! You don't get to pretend to, either. He's all the family I have left! Now I have nothing! So, since I've got nothing, I'll do whatever it takes to get him back. Like I always have. Like _we_ always have.'

Rose looks away as the tears fall from Dean's eyes as he continues to stare at Sam's lifeless body. 'Then let me do it my way. Let me help – what have you got to lose?'

Rose frowns when Dean begins to move Sam and she panics slightly. He loops his arms under Sam's and motions to his feet. She frowns and shakes her head.

'Come on! Help me! I need to get him to the Impala.' Dean orders and Rose reluctantly helps to pick up his feet. She struggles and re-grips a couple of time while they awkwardly shuffle towards the door.

'Dean, would you let me explain – I can help!' Rose insists, but he silences her with a glare and she instead tries to focus on something else. Like the pain in her shoulder. Oh no, wait…don't focus on that.

They manage to move Sam outside and hobble their way towards the car. The longer they're at it, Rose feel the adrenaline wearing off. How Dean manages to see where he's going is beyond her. His face is littered with bruises and scrapes. Her eyes drift downward and she catches a glimpse of Sam and she widens her eyes and lifts her gaze up. She can't look at him knowing that they failed.

It rained out. While they had been in that warehouse…it rained. And now, the sun is poking through the metallic clouds to signify that the worst is now over. It's almost as though it mocks them. Rays shine down on them, the world blissfully unaware that it lost someone it could count on to keep it safe.

Dean pants as he leans against the car door and exhales, moving around to the other side so he can fling the door open. As he reaches to pull Sam in to the backseat, Rose observes the utter defeat in Dean's eyes and the sorrowful regret, the light is gone. She blindly follows his lead, hoping that once they're on the road – she will invite herself – she can pin him down and talk. She has to make him understand that she will fix this. But she can't if he'll make it his mission to do something incredibly stupid. She might not have known the Winchesters for long however she truly believes with all she has that there can be no Dean without Sam.

When they both manage to get Sam in they shut the doors at the same time and Rose looks up over the roof to Dean. The life is slowly ebbing away from him…she can tell. He nods at her and she moves along to the passenger side while Dean gets in the driver's seat. He steals another glance at Sam and she can tell he wills with all he has that Sam will simply sit up. When it doesn't happen after a few seconds, he starts the ignition and they pull away.

There is little traffic on these country roads and Rose waits for a sufficient amount of time to pass before she turns to Dean just as he pulls out his mobile again and brings it to his ear. He bangs his fist on the steering wheel as whoever he was trying to get a hold of doesn't pick up. This time he leaves a message.

'Cas, it's me. We have a problem. Call me as soon as you get this message,' Dean pauses and closes his eyes. 'It's Sam. He's…just call me.'

Unable to take anymore, Rose puts her hand on his shoulder. He doesn't acknowledge her right away, not until she moves her hand to his cheek. Dean glances over to her. A split second. Just enough to see a smear of red. He looks away. And then turns back. That smear of red morphs into her face, hidden under the dirt and grime. Her eyes burn through him, hypnotic in their trance. He skims back to the road. Maybe if he continues to arbitrarily drive around, she'll notice…and then he can make a deal…

'I can't wait any longer…' she begins and Dean frowns.

'What?'

'I need to fix this. And I can't let you hinder me anymore and I don't have time to explain.'

Dean doesn't comprehend her words. What could she mean by fixing it. Fixing what? 'What are you talking about?'

'Don't worry. I _will_ fix this…you won't even remember this will have happened because I'm about to erase this,' Rose pauses and smiles at the confusion in Dean's eyes. 'I'll see you on the other side…'

He blinks and looks around. She's gone. Simply gone. Where did she go? Oh, he knew she was a witch. That crafty-…man…he knew it. He will always trust his gut from now on. Sam was right…Sam would've gotten a kick out of that.

He gasps and slams on the brakes. The car begins to fishtail and he fights for control, coming to a stop mere inches from her. The corners of her mouth tilt upwards to reveal a little smile. She drops her arms to the side and begins to walk towards him. His heart is racing. Stay calm. He _will_ get something out of this.

'Hey Dean.'

'Billie…'

She pauses, leaning into the window and motions to Sam in the back seat. She clicks her tongue. 'What have we here?'

Dean exhales a deep breath, hoping it didn't come out a wavering. 'I need a favour…'

Billie frowns. 'Oh no. Remember? No more favours.'

'I don't care. We'll make a deal.'

'There is no deal, Dean, there never will be. A Winchester dies, they stay dead. There is nothing that can change that-…' Billie is stunned to see that in an instant the Impala is gone. The leather jacket twists as she crosses her arms and chuckles. 'Well now, who have the Winchesters met that can manipulate time?'

Billie grins as she turns to walk away. No matter. If it's one thing she's certain of, the Winchesters will screw up again. One of them will die and the other will bargain their way out of that mess. She'll get them, she just has to be patient. What's most curious is who they've met who is able to muddle around time. She'll have to take a closer look into that.

In an instant, she's gone. The world continues on.

* * *

They hear Rose's shouts of pain as the bullet enters her shoulder. Dean shouts to her but receives a punch to the ribs. He moves back, ignoring the pain. Sam runs forward and tackles the guy – Andy? – to the ground and they wrestle for the gun. Rose rolls around onto her back and heaves herself up. What a melee this has become. Where do they begin to attack, who will lead? How can this possibly get any better? Or worse?

Someone walks with purpose and there is a pause in the air, Dean clears his target's head off and he turns around and stares dumbfounded just at the one vamp takes aim at Sam but when he notices the figure moving towards him, his hand lowers and the trigger is pulled. A single shot rings out and Sam shouts in pain. Blood seeps through his jeans where the bullet has landed in his leg.

Dean can't see out of his one eye but even with the muddled vision he is certain that there is another Rose walking towards the guy in front of Sam – only because their Rose is watching in awe as well. So is her friend. The Rose that is striding towards the guy not looking back looks like she's been through hell. And back. Some post-apocalyptic version of Rose, battered, bloodied and fierce because she's had to be. The machete in her hand shakes, her one shoulder also holds a bullet hole – what the hell is going on? Dean watches the confusion on Sam's face as well…he doesn't know either. And yet…when he looks over to Rose – their version – she is observing with a judgmental look on her face. Like she's pissed…with herself for disappointing… herself. There had better be a damn good explanation for this. Like how the hell can there be _two_ of them?!

The shock isn't lost on the vamps. The one who had shot Sam glances from the menacing version of Rose to the one who is being held by the French one, his mind takes too longer to register what is happening because all of a sudden menacing Rose dashes for the guy and in a clean swipe his head is rolling behind him. She drops the machete and before the guy's body falls – still clutching the gun – she grabs the extended arm and turns her back to him, holding the arm up, securing the firing hand she squeezes the trigger and shot rings out, pegging the French one between the eyes.

She then slips her foot under the machete and flips it into her grip, darting for French guy who has stumbled back and allowed their Rose to rush to Sam's aid. The French guy hasn't recovered quick enough before she's upon him, Dean isn't sure but he though he heard a soft _merci_ from the French guy before his headless body crumples to the ground.

Dean attacks the one to his left who looked scared when he sees that she's coming towards him and when the final one attempts to rush her hoping that his brute strength would over power her, given her battered state, he was sorely mistaken. She side stepped him easily and delivers a roundhouse kick to his face. He curses loudly and readies himself. A little grin on his face and a look that says, come on, sweetheart, show me what you've got.

And she did. Neatly. Timely. Angrily. He was on his back in seconds. She above him with her foot on his chest and he merely grinned up at her, knowing it was the end. And that little grin was still on his face long after it had been severed from his body.

Her hand shaking, menacing Rose drops the machete and their Rose gets to her feet and walks towards her. How can they look the same and yet so different? Dean rushes to get Sam and puts his arm around his shoulders and hauls Sam to his feet. They exchange confused looks as the Roses seemingly square off. Their Rose crosses her arms and huffs.

'I hope it was worth it.'

Menacing Rose glances up to Sam and Dean and smiles. 'Friends usually are.'

* * *

A rust bucket of a vehicle pulls into the back of the truck stop diner. Dean throws up his hands and rolls his eyes. He had been on his mobile for some time after the rest of the vamps had been taken care of and she wonders if this is the person he had been trying to connect with. After multiple messages left to the person on the other end, both Dean and Sam had demanded an explanation.

 _How the hell were there two of you?!_

She had glanced up to him while she had been fishing the bullet out of Sam's leg. When Sam had attempted to protest, she had pressed her finger to his lips to silence him and hand victoriously held up the bullet with a triumphant smirk.

 _I already told you when we had that heart to heart. I can travel in time. Apparently, that's what I did. Something bad happened. And I reversed it. I altered the time line. I can guess why. That was future me._

 _Future you kicked ass._ Dean had commented and Rose couldn't hide the crooked smirk. Yeah. She does. She can. And one of them died. So that's why she reversed the time line. She understands that these lads…they're important. They're needed. They save the world. A lot.

Rose gets out of the front of the car – more room in the back for Sam to rest his leg up. She opens the back door and helps Sam out while Dean holds his hands to his side as she observes a man with dark hair and a beige trench coat getting out of the beater vehicle. Rose can't help but stare at how…the wings…? What is she looking at? And how do the boys not see them? Wait, why can she? What creature is this? The light that encompasses him is palpitating. What…what is she looking at?

A little groan from Sam snaps Rose from her encompassing thoughts. She helps him rest against the side of the car and he nods at her, appreciating her efforts. She checks the makeshift bandage she had made for him – apparently, she was out of the cream from Jupiter. Not the first time that something bad has happened and she's turned to it only to find it's gone. She'll have to start monitoring it better. What she can do is quickly head to Jupiter, pick some up and head back. That way it'll accelerate the healing factor.

Dean motions to them and the man in the trench coat looks over to them. She can see the man frown he notices Sam's leg. She can feel his gaze on her, studying her, wondering where she fits into all of this. He begins to walk towards them with Dean following and Rose feels the light touching her. How do they not see or feel it? And those wings…it couldn't mean he's-…could it?

'I mean c'mon, Cas. Where the hell were you?' Dean chides and the man gives Dean a sideways glance. But Rose can see that he also notices her from his peripheral vision.

'I came as soon I as I received your message,' he replies and then frowns. 'And I have been looking for answers to the problem at hand.'

'Yeah well, while you were busy doing that, Sam nearly died.' Dean reminds him and this man, Cas shifts his gaze to Sam.

'How? Why? What were you doing?' Castiel looks over to Sam who gives him a smile and a wave. Dean can see Cas is concerned that they had another brush with Amara. After that outcome, he almost wishes it were her. Wait, what?

'Hi Cas.'

'Hunting jacked up vamps,' Dean begins to explain and Cas lowers his hand and Rose watches intrigued, which turns to a stunned expression as a gold light emits from his hand and she feels a rush within her. She wonders if that's Bad Wolf reacting. Who is this man? Sam's wound is gone. 'Military style. Don't worry, things were fixed. We had back up.'

'I see that…'

Dean motions to Rose and she smiles. She enjoys the man's thorough once over of her, the perpetual frown on his face. 'Cas, this is-…'

'Rose Tyler. Yes, I know.'

Dean seems surprised and a little disappointed that his introduction goes nowhere. Truly she's just as surprised as well. Is this man a…she doesn't even know? How could he claim to know her? Oh no, have they met previously and she doesn't recall it. She'll play it coy.

'How do you know?' Dean wonders and Castiel gives him a look and Dean shrugs, dropping the subject – like he already knows why. 'Okay, right.'

'Nice to meet you…?'

'Castiel.'

'He's an angel of the Lord.' Dean adds and Rose reaches out to shake his hand. She immediately draws her hand back.

'I beg your pardon?'

'An angel.' Dean repeats and Rose allows that information to wash over her in triplicate. That explains everything she's seen. The light. The shadow of the wings. She just didn't that it was plausible. _I mean…really?_ She thinks. _Angels. What else is there?_ She'll have a field day telling Jack that one.

'I must comment, Rose, that I don't entirely approve of your flouting the laws of time travel.' Castiel remarks and Rose crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side.

' _You_ don't approve? I'm sorry, I missed that memo. I don't need _your_ permission? My travelling around time, yeah mate, that isn't going to stop,' Rose flings back and Castiel looks unimpressed. 'From what I hear, most humans need spells to travel back in time. Or a mythical being to act as their guide. I don't need either.'

'Serious damage may be caused if one were to wander around humanity's past.' Castiel chides her and Sam motions him to stop and drop the subject but the cues are missed. Or not understood.

Rose feels her look fall flat and Dean's shaking his head. 'Trust me. I don't need a lecture on how to do my job. And I'm on your side. If you didn't have me or those like me…not only would you be dealing with the supernatural side of things, you'd also be dealing with the science project rejects only a kid could dream up.'

There's the perpetual frown on his face. He's turning over her words though. Dean's got a smirk on his face. 'All I am asking for is discretion.'

Rose crinkles her nose. 'From who? You know what? The next time Earth is visited by the Slitheen, I will invite you as my guest to deal with the delegate that comes along. It's in London though, so you'll have make the trek.'

Cas glances over to Dean before he looks at Sam who is also smiling. 'I believe that is sarcasm. I've been practicing at detecting it.'

Rose puts her hand on his shoulder and they lock eyes. He can sense there's more power in her. Rose can see he's discovering Bad Wolf's power. She allows a few seconds before she drops her hand. 'I was only being somewhat sarcastic. You want to understand what I do, I'll invite you along. Just remember…Earth isn't the only universe its housed in. There are others. Far beyond the scope of our home. You want to see what lies beyond. Buckle up. I'll show you.'

'Perhaps…another time.'

'Rain check? Okay. Just tell me when,' Rose smiles and glances at her watch. 'Ah, best be off. I have to pop back home before I rendez-vous with my ride.'

Dean becomes disappointed. 'Can we talk before you go?'

Rose eyes him. 'Sure…'

Sam embraces her tightly when she comes around. Yeah, he's glad she's on their side – unofficially. She tells him to check his mobile and in there he sees her number programmed in and she winks at him, telling him that she'll always pick up. Whenever, wherever. He thanks her for saving him, but she shakes her head, dismissing it. Instead he envelopes her into a bear hug and she grins into the crook of his neck.

She holds her hand out to Cas and he takes it. She smirks at him while he's clearly studying her again. She can feel Bad Wolf stirring within and Cas tilts his head. The power he can feel radiating off her causes him to worry. It's not something he's used to. So, when she bids him farewell and begins to walk away for some privacy, Dean begins to follow her. But Cas puts his hand on Dean's shoulder to stop him. Confused, Dean turns around and wonders what's up.

'Careful around her Dean, she has immense power locked away within her.' Cas warns and Dean glances over to Rose who is waiting for him to join her.

'What kind of power?'

'Ancient. It is a power I've never felt before.'

'What kind of ancient power? I need more to go on. You know I don't like to stay away from dangerous women.' Dean replies and claps Cas on the shoulder while he goes over to see Rose. Sam comes to stand beside Cas and shakes his head at his brother's antics. That's Dean…if he sees a pretty girl…he's got see it through.

Sam watches Dean and Rose exchange a final bout of pleasantries while Cas observes them carefully in his own regard. Sam doesn't miss the goofy grin on his brother's face, a sincere smile he's not seen on Dean's face in a long time. It's a meaningful one. It makes him smile on his own…considering all the crap that's been dumped on their plate since releasing the Darkness, if a British blonde can make him forget his own perceived failures, then so be it.

'You know, Cas, I've seen my brother drool over a lot of women…but I've never seen him drool over _a_ woman before. Except Lisa.'

'I don't understand.' Castiel takes another look at Dean and his stupid grin when Rose places her hand on his shoulder. He doesn't appear to be salivating at the moment.

'Rose. It's like, honestly, she just swooped in and connected with him on such a level. It's hard to explain. I've never felt more like a third wheel before.'

'A third…wheel?' Cas repeats and Sam shakes his head.

'Never mind…'

Rose glances over to Sam and Cas and takes a couple of mental notes that she can share with Jack when the meet up for dinner and drinks at her favourite pub. This has been a whirlwind, full of death, heartbreak, stormy days and yet rounded out by the prospect of new friends made.

'You know; you could come with us. You're…you're pretty damn good at this.' Dean offers and Rose shrugs a bit. She's needed elsewhere.

'Mm, maybe – you're sweet to say that. I'm more of a lone wolf though, as I gather you three lads are. But you have my mobile, ring me if you need something. I'll be here.' Rose motions to his mobile and Dean checks to be sure. He wonders how she could have done that without him knowing it.

'I can't just pop over across the pond…' Dean reminds her, attempting to impersonate her accent and Rose laughs lightly at him.

'No, but if you're ever in New York City, I have a place. You lot can crash there and we can go for a beer. No scummy motels while you're in my city.'

'I'm in.' Dean replies automatically, though he doesn't mention that New York City brings up memories. Not pleasant ones and it's rare for him to delve that deep into the state of New York. There's a city he just doesn't understand.

'Good, I'll text you the address. Keep in touch, yeah? I'm always here if you want to talk. About anything.' Rose embraces him and Dean is slow to respond. He also gently embraces her back, keeping his touch light. She smiles as she pulls away and is about to head on home Dean thrusts his hand out and catches her wrist. Rose arches her eyebrow.

Dean pulls her aside a couple more paces and Rose crosses her arms, waiting for his comment. Whatever it may be.

'You sure you'll be all right to head back alone? Sure you don't wanna spend the night and head out fresh as a daisy tomorrow?' He wonders and Rose shakes her head, holding up her manipulator. Dean feels his gaze lower to the cuff like bracelet on her wrist.

'I'm good thanks. I'll be back home before you start the engine.'

'Yeah, right. I forgot about that. Well, you know, Sam and I may not know a lot about aliens, but if you ever need us, we'll tag along.'

'Thanks, it means a lot. Just keep believing,' Rose replies and Dean grins at her. She figured he'd like that. 'You boys keep taking care of the supernatural and I'll take care of the Sci Fi.'

'You know I wouldn't mind if our paths crossed a few more times…'

'Yeah I bet you wouldn't,' Rose counters and she can't help but match his stupid grin. 'So, what will you do now?'

'We have a problem to solve,' Dean replies and Rose crosses her arms as she waits for the answer. 'Darkness is coming.'

'How ominously vague.'

'Believe it, sweetheart. But we'll stop it. We always do.' He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. Because he has a feeling that this whole tie to Amara thing…it's gonna consume him. But if it does…he'll put up one hell of a fight.

'Okay I'll bite, what is the Darkness?' Rose questions and Dean frowns.

'You religious?'

'Not really.'

He nods…might be a bit harder to convey then. He'll give it a shot. 'Well here's the thing. God's real and has a very pissed off sister,' Dean explains and watches Rose's eyebrow gradually rise. 'Which I accidently released by killing Death. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've learned my lesson.'

'Wow…there's so much to unpack in that statement. How are you going to stop this mess?' She almost adds if they need help but hell…she wouldn't even know where to start looking. How does one stop an omnipotent goddess? And with what arsenal?

'We're working with a theory.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes. Hand of God.' Dean replies proudly and Rose turns over the stories in her mind.

'You mean those Biblical objects that God himself supposedly touched?'

'Thought you said you weren't religious…'

'I often do some light reading.'

'You and Sam would get along great, you nerds,' Dean tells her and Rose laughs. 'But seriously. You're right. We're going to find some. There _has_ to be some left. We hope that with that power…we can destroy her. Send her back to wherever she came from.'

'Hand of God…' Rose trails off and frowns. 'Tell you what, I'll see what I can find in Europe when I get back. I've met some…colourful characters in my travels. Maybe they can help.'

'Great. We need all the help we can get.' He responds seriously. Rose nods her head and pulls out her mobile. No reason she and Jack can't eat, get a little tipsy and do some research. Those are some of her best memories.

She's also a little surprised when he embraces her once again. A meaningful one. A thankful one. He doesn't utter the words. She knows.

'Hey, you're welcome. And don't worry. There won't be any consequences from what I've done.' She tells him and Dean pulls away.

'How do you know?'

'I just do. I don't often alter time lines, but when I do I'm a professional. Nothing has been offset or changed or will need to be compensated. It's okay.' Rose reassures him and Dean reluctantly accepts her statement. He doesn't know enough about the consequences and as someone who does this professionally, he trusts her. He has to.

'Thank you…'

Rose smiles softly. 'Any time. And you know…I'm serious. If it's 2am my time and you need to talk, ring me. Whatever you need to say…it's not good to bottle it up. Seriously.'

Dean smiles but doesn't reply. He doesn't need to share anything with her. It's safer if he just keeps it all within him. That way people won't get hurt or worse by him sharing his fears, feelings or thoughts. He will face Amara alone. And maybe die trying. There's a bridge that hasn't been crossed yet. Come what may. They'll face it, kick its ass and save the world.

When Rose can see she won't be getting a response from him, she dials in the spot she wants and holds up her hand as a small goodbye. Sam waves, Cas does nothing but offer a curt nod and Dean…well she just gets a smile from him.

Dean stares at the spot she used to occupy. What a day. A beer is calling his name. Until he remembers they don't have any. He sighs. They'll have to stop. He really needs a case while he sits and thinks about what just happened over the last couple of hours. He heads over to where Sam and Cas are tossing theories around about the best starting point to find a Hand of God. Cas agrees to follow them back to the bunker – not before they do a little 'grocery' shop, Dean informs them.

As they're in a small convenience store picking up essentials, Dean's phone vibrates and he shuffles some of the stuff in his arms to reach into his back pocket and procure the phone. He swallows a bit. God how is she making him feel like this? Cas said she was dangerous. That just made her ten times hotter. Caution will be needed when finding out what she's hiding.

 _Chin up, Yank. Things will be fine :)_

Dean walks to the cashier and Sam puts his own stuff down as well. He notices the brownie encased in plastic that Sam's got and when he catches Sam glaring at him and smirks. Whether he knows it or not that brownie is his. Sam's mental idle threats won't scare him off.

They walk out and he feels mildly comforted knowing that they've gained a friend beyond their realm, who seems keen on helping them. And with that enthusiasm behind them, the fight has been renewed. Together they'll stop this. And he'll overcome Amara's influence on him.

They'll see this ending through in its entirety. Whatever the outcome. They'll finish this. They always have. Every loss will be mourned. Every victory savoured. And with each sweet victory the momentum will build. Soon they'll have their answers on how to beat the Darkness. Momentum and sheer luck. They're the best at this. No one can do this better than they can. Everyone would quit when faced with this task. And that right there…that's all he needs to recommit. Because they're not everyone else.

They're Sam and Dean Winchester.

* * *

Only…well let's see five months late. I've run out of excuses. Life gets in the way, new job, more school…all that stuff. But it's here, and I hope you like it. My cross over attempt. It's just my take, no offence to all those in the SPN fandom. There are loyalties there as to respective pairing. Dean and Cas being at the forefront, and I respect that.

I have two different ways that this can go, meaning I have an out for both sides. I've also done a lot of random fics for Rose popping into the SPN season that just passed. Again, just to help my creative juices but if the response is good I'll officially make this a cross over.

New Doctor revealed as well. I'm quite excited to see where I can take this relationship between Rose and the Doctor. It's going to be great.

Please leave your thoughts on this. I'm just curious to see where I'm taking the next chapter. I've also gotta push this story along. I'm so far behind!

Cheers


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